She woke up ten feet from death;
Her last breath was taken on a hospital bed.
She was led to believe that prayer would get her to heaven,
So she prayed eleven times a day without ceasing until she took her final breath.
She left without saying goodbye.
I would be lying if I told you she made it to heaven;
I'm not sure it those eleven prayers did the trick,
But I kissed her neck on the fifth as a short 'I love you' before I left for school.
It pulls at my heart to know that I was the last to see her smile,
The only one in the room when her wild-eyed stare gave way to a fading glint, blank like glass ornaments;
I should have kissed her ten seconds before then,
When she was at her last prayer, I could have told her I loved once more before her life ended.
But I didn't, and that is my only regret.