'Everything's Wrong'

What does ‘Everything’s wrong’
look like? A blur?
Is there no blue sky to be seen,
no straight lines to read between?
Are there no second opinions?
No other options for her at this stage,
at this ancient age?

I find myself awake
in the middle of the night
thinking about her words.

If everything’s wrong
then absolutely nothing is right.

And what does that look like?

From where I’m sitting
it looks like skin and bone.
It looks like living hell.

So I stroke her hand and tell
her everything will be all right.
Soon.

It won’t.

She flinches
and pulls her hand away.

Does it hurt to be touched?
Perhaps it does now,
now that ‘Everything’s wrong.’