I abuse them
They abuse me
But I let them
They help me see

They call it drugs
I call it cure
They're far better than hugs
They help rid all my fear

Sometimes
The best gift in the world
Is so simple

A corsage
Even when we aren’t going
To the dance

A bowl of warm soup
When I’m sick,
Hand delivered

And three small words
More than all:
I love you

If love could cure the flu,
I would be well.
And may the Lord be praised for that.

Deep is the pain you think to be true
The curse of past time we keep building upon as if new
We cannot escape the lives we haven’t lived
For the one we live emerges from those that did
A conscious experience is a new thing indeed
But do we share this cursed gift with a bird in a tree
If so, is life just a massive observer?
Thinking its thoughts in an expanding circle
Deep is the joy you think to be true
Just don’t let this feeling turn into a cure

The three phrases I was given
At a time I thought
I could not go on
I want to share with you

You did not cause it
You can not control it
You can not cure it

Someone who understood pain and loss  
Shared these words with me

I did not cause it
I can not control it
I can not cure it

     I repeated them during my morning runs
          I put them on my to do list
               I read them aloud everyday

It wasn’t until it became my mantra
That it sunk in

At first I fought against them
My mind taking over
As it often does
With overthinking
And inflicting painful thoughts

     If I only I did it differently...
          I did not cause it
               If I only I do this now...
                    I can not control it
                         If only you would...
                              I can not cure it

I did not heal
Until I realized
I really did not cause it
I really can not control it
I really can not cure it
     But I can chose to
        ... Cope

I can choose to survive
I can choose to love myself despite the reasons these words became important
In the first place

Now I give them to you