and
i am just here
turning words
into
fantasy
while
you are there
creating dreams
with your
reality

©IGMS

How to know when you're sick
You hurt.
Your bathroom mirror is overflowing with pill bottles
Your eldest child is accustomed to dialing  911
You're familiar with the hospital

**How to know when you're dying
Everything hurts
The pill bottles double, prescriptions changing
Bi-weekly visits to the hospital become necessary for  your survival
When your eldest child dials 911, the paramedics that arrive know you by name


How to know when you're free
Your lungs draw their last breath
Your struggling heart beats one final time
The piercing sound of your heart monitor fills the hospital room
Your pain is finally gone
You're free.

She looks up into the ever darkening night sky and laughs bitterly
two choices, two horrible options
One diagnosis makes you want to die
and the other it’s inevitable
endometriosis
or
ovarian cancer

She laughs again
staring at the night sky
she's afraid
she can feel it slowly bubbling up
like a *** set to a boil on the stove
except no ones watching over her
no ones making sure she doesn't boil over

She looks up into the ever darkening sky
tears slipping down her face
praying to a God she doesn’t believe in
*let the medication work

She needs help, she knows she does
she doesn’t want help
she wants to ******* fix herself

You’re eight years old
You and your father have gone into the woods surrounding the house to explore
You are laughing and running and falling in the colorful leaves
Your father follows behind you
Walking, he cannot run
Hasn’t been able to for years
Suddenly you hear an angry roar
You freeze
Turn
There is a bear
There is a bear 20 feet from you
30 from father
You scream in fright
Turn
Run
The bear gives chase
Father doesn’t move
There is another deafening roar
You break through the trees surrounding your yard, look behind you
Father isn’t there
Father couldn’t run
You start to cry out, “Daddy”, sobbing

**** awake
Tears streaming down your face
Turns out it wasn’t just dream you crying
Call out
“Dad?”

I wonder what it would be like to have wings
To be able to fly, soar
I bet it’d feel like freedom.