Playing God

I killed him with comfort measures.
Zipping white crisp plastic over grey sullen skin.

I knew it was what he wanted
Since he was too restless to sleep
And we stayed up all night together
Exploring options.

I rested my hand on his chest to ease his respirations
And delivered his last dose of morphine
No ghosts or gods attended
Just a series of lasts
Then a limp, heavy body to turn cold in patches

So I held his hand before checking for sure
Giving him one minute more.