They told me
> “Stay.”
I said
> “I have to go.”
They pulled me close,
> arms wrapped around my
>> small frame in a tight clasp.
“Please, stay.”
I bit my lip
> “I really have to go.”
They squeezed me again.
> “We want you here.”
Then after a pause
> “We love you.”
“Sometimes,” I began,
> “we have to let go
>> of the ones we love.”
They shook their heads,
> Hair tossing down over
> their brown, compassionate eyes.
“Not like this.
> Not this way.”
“I’ll be okay,”
> I try to reassure
They don’t believe me.
I pull away, slowly at first
> then more effectively.
“You can’t stop me.”
“Yes,” they insisted. “We can.”
I hear the sirens.
> I flinch within their grasp.
“Don’t do this,” I warn.
“We have no other choice.”
> They had tears streaming
> down their faces now.
> I could feel the watery
> excess on the back of my
> shoulders.
“Please,” I begged. “Don’t do this.”
“We’re doing what’s best for you.”
“This doesn’t feel like love!” I cry.
They narrow their eyes.
“No, it doesn’t. And maybe
it never will. But we’re doing
this out of love. Out of care.
> One day you’ll see this.”
“I hate you!” I yell,
> trying still to break free.
They continue to hold me,
> imprisoning me.
“And that you can,” they reply.
> “But at least you’ll still
>> be here to hate us.
> We’d rather have that than
>> nothing at all.”
I cry then,
> I let go of each teardrop
> as the men in uniform
>> stream out.
They tell me they’re bringing me in,
> Leading me to the hospital.
“I don’t want to go,” I plead.
Their faces are grim.
“You’ll feel better soon.”
> The brown eyed gaze
whispered in my ear, letting
> me out inch by inch.
“I hate you,” I hurled back.
But away I went.
> Away I went.
And one day,
> one day I felt better.
One day I could see why
they did what they did.
It hurt for a while,
> It hurts still, sometimes.
But when you came to me,
> I knew what I had to do.
Even if I dreaded
every minute of it.
I’d do it again in a
> Heartbeat,
To ensure you’d get
> One more breath
> out of your mouth.
I loved you,
> as much as they loved me.
So be mad.
> Be angry.
But most of all,
> be brave,
Because I know you, too,
> can make it
> through this.
Piece written: 7/26/2019
About the art: I listened to “Do Not Go Gentle” by Josh Woodward for this poem and it was written out as a vent piece to handle my emotional intensities while also being in part inspired by a story I listened to on Youtube involving Athena and how she had gotten support for the start of her recovery. It’s “I” is because it’s the first in likely a four part series. I may still flesh it out further, I’m not sure. There’s probably some Loki from my fanfic story “Distorted & Disordered” in here, too, if you squint hard enough. 🙂
Hope you enjoy this piece!! Let me know if you have ideas for a continuation or things you’d like to see taken on in this poem series! 😀
PS: > to signify one tabbed space in, >> to signify two tabbed spaces in.
Stay safe ❤ ❤ ❤
RecoverytoWellness 