There was a time where I was sick a lot
clinging to the pains in my stomach
only there because my heart made it so.
My mind was my own demise
and the sunken chest I hid inside
caged all the resentment
I spend years trying to hide.
And each and every time a surgery came
I hoped that maybe I would go under
and see my future more clearly
or go under and never come up for air again.
But I always woke up-
I didn't dream anything
it was the most sound sleep I've ever gotten.
Each time was better than the last
and even though when I awoke
the sickness plagued my body
until I could not breathe between the aches
I was alive each and every time.
See, hard drugs never did anything for me
neither did prescription medication
but really what's the difference between the two?
The only thing that made me feel stronger
was the alcohol bleeding through my veins
as if every single secret escaped my body
just in one night.
Until I learned the sickness that came after
was worse than the hospital stays
and the pills that were supposed to take the pain away.
The aftermath was deadly-
I felt it all in my mentality and found a safe haven
in the misplaced anguish
until it turned against me.
I had to live again.
Pushing through with every ounce of strength
that I could possibly muster
because dying sounded a lot worse
than living with this beating heart
reminding me the vices I cling to
are only temporary and so is this pain .
The ache in my stomach passed,
just like after the surgeries
but this time I didn't get to go home
I was already there.
There is no place to run away from this-
no way out of the dark tunnel you find yourself in
after the anesthesia diminishes your clarity.
It will always be there and it will pass
and your body will soon feel like yours again.
These arms that carry you to the backseat of the car
will still be there to carry you home-
Just wait.