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Her mom was one call away; Even though Christy didn't have her own phone, She had the number ready to dial. In the long run, she couldn't make the call In borrowing access to another's phone. I lent her my phone...more than one time. I noticed Christy asking for rides, A frequent sight Around Walmart's outdoor campus. I couldn't take back what I saw, So I offered to ride her. Christy rose from neutral emotions To cheery. After all, at least she could be inside somewhere Even in fleeting time. I drove her...more than one time After a while, it wasn't "I don't know you" And "You don't know me." Not even "Since it's Christmas..." Could sum this interaction. Instead, Christy and I eating McDonald's breakfast burritos Is the best way I can describe Our encounter: A hunger to help, A hunger to be helped. I ate those burritos...more than one time For her sake. I firmly believe those burritos will not be Her last supper. I drove Christy during the day And under the drapery of night, One instance with her friend Lisa, Another moment that ended With my yelling voice unleashed Toward Christy's mother. Then a detour to the Emergency Room, Good Christy vomiting outside The passenger door along the road. Yet, Christy navigated my driving...more than one time. Christy wasn't a fan of needles, But grudgingly accepted the IV That she foresaw in her medical visit. She succumbed to X-Ray scans, The blood pressure strap, And the nocturnal waiting. "Maybe we should go...you look tired," Christy glared at me. "I'm fine...I want to see you well first," I urged. Christy didn't budge at my response... She signed a release, and we left. Her lips spun her two lip piercings...more than one time. "Do I look funny?" Christy asked me at one point. The best I could say, in order to not just say what she wanted to hear, Was: "You look how you look." We looked for hotels for Christy...more than one time. She was at the Heritage, But a police incident removed The lodgers the night of the scene. Christy was at the Relax, But the manager was missing a kind heart And the room had roaches. We tried the Days Inn. Beyond our affordability. Christy settled with the Knights Inn After mid-knight. My arguing created another situation: I thought I saw Christy getting food from someone else. [My, what assumptions can ruin] She cried because of my sudden accusation. Even my immediate turn-around apology Couldn't mend my errors right then. Christy started losing hope that I, Or we (my mom included), Couldn't help her; limitation started to take The upper hand. Christy, who had suicidal intentions before, Restored them from the way she carelessly And degradingly spoke of herself. "I'm NOT going to the Bethany House!" Christy insisted. Christy repelled the Bethany House...more than one time. I drove Christy to my mom's church, Christy carelessly approving. A friend of my mom's tried to talk Christy Into staying on the course of help, But Christy wanted to just go back to Walmart, To panhandle. I understood her desire to do so, But we could have helped her. She ran off at Sheetz With her garbage bag of belongings. Saying "Christy" multiple times Made Christy ignore me even more. We all deserve a chance...more than one time, But some will want more than one more time.
0
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 2:58 PM UTC
Phone Service
Her mom was one call away; Even though Christy didn't have her own phone, She had the number ready to dial. In the long run, she couldn't make the call In borrowing access to another's phone. I lent her my phone...more than one time. I noticed Christy asking for rides, A frequent sight Around Walmart's outdoor campus. I couldn't take back what I saw, So I offered to ride her. Christy rose from neutral emotions To cheery. After all, at least she could be inside somewhere Even in fleeting time. I drove her...more than one time After a while, it wasn't "I don't know you" And "You don't know me." Not even "Since it's Christmas..." Could sum this interaction. Instead, Christy and I eating McDonald's breakfast burritos Is the best way I can describe Our encounter: A hunger to help, A hunger to be helped. I ate those burritos...more than one time For her sake. I firmly believe those burritos will not be Her last supper. I drove Christy during the day And under the drapery of night, One instance with her friend Lisa, Another moment that ended With my yelling voice unleashed Toward Christy's mother. Then a detour to the Emergency Room, Good Christy vomiting outside The passenger door along the road. Yet, Christy navigated my driving...more than one time. Christy wasn't a fan of needles, But grudgingly accepted the IV That she foresaw in her medical visit. She succumbed to X-Ray scans, The blood pressure strap, And the nocturnal waiting. "Maybe we should go...you look tired," Christy glared at me. "I'm fine...I want to see you well first," I urged. Christy didn't budge at my response... She signed a release, and we left. Her lips spun her two lip piercings...more than one time. "Do I look funny?" Christy asked me at one point. The best I could say, in order to not just say what she wanted to hear, Was: "You look how you look." We looked for hotels for Christy...more than one time. She was at the Heritage, But a police incident removed The lodgers the night of the scene. Christy was at the Relax, But the manager was missing a kind heart And the room had roaches. We tried the Days Inn. Beyond our affordability. Christy settled with the Knights Inn After mid-knight. My arguing created another situation: I thought I saw Christy getting food from someone else. [My, what assumptions can ruin] She cried because of my sudden accusation. Even my immediate turn-around apology Couldn't mend my errors right then. Christy started losing hope that I, Or we (my mom included), Couldn't help her; limitation started to take The upper hand. Christy, who had suicidal intentions before, Restored them from the way she carelessly And degradingly spoke of herself. "I'm NOT going to the Bethany House!" Christy insisted. Christy repelled the Bethany House...more than one time. I drove Christy to my mom's church, Christy carelessly approving. A friend of my mom's tried to talk Christy Into staying on the course of help, But Christy wanted to just go back to Walmart, To panhandle. I understood her desire to do so, But we could have helped her. She ran off at Sheetz With her garbage bag of belongings. Saying "Christy" multiple times Made Christy ignore me even more. We all deserve a chance...more than one time, But some will want more than one more time.
Not an easy experience, but poetry is the hard-to-accept as well.
brian-mc-donagh-1
Written by
27/M/West Virginia
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 2:58 PM UTC
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