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Creative Writing

It was your graduation party.
I remember pulling up in my used car,
Taking in the mass of luxury vehicles,
Lining your street.
Each one went up in value,
The closer they got to your house.
“I’m out of my league”
I thought.
But I guess I knew before,
I arrived.
You said you wanted me there,
The reason why,
was questionable.
Told me I helped you get through school,
With my minor edits to your essays,
And the occasional last minute ride
To class.
Really, it was all you.
Always said you were smarter
Than you gave yourself
Credit for.
You sought knowledge,
Unlike the others I had known,
Whom thought they
Had it all figured out.
You are not like them…
It was hell to be there though,
With your family, your new lover,
Whom I don’t remember,
He didn’t last long though.
Then there was me,
The old baggage.
My gift to you was our favorite wine,
After I explained its history,
A couple years before,
On your birthday.
I remember you were fascinated by it.
That smile you showed then was,
Intoxicating,
More so than the wine itself.
My heart has been
Hopeless since then.
I didn’t want to stay
For the bottle opening,
But you insisted.
I felt a pain like nothing
before or since.
It wasn’t just the sickness,
Slowly taking over my body.
That was something else
Entirely.
But this pain was formidable
Enough that I gulped my glass
Of stars
Like an alcoholic
After the cork popped.
Then I made my escape.
Said I didn’t feel well.
It was the truth.
Not long after,
My mom rushed me to
The emergency room:
Atrial fibrillation,
Among other things.
I was almost grateful,
If I’m honest.
It was a good reason to
Stay away.
And so I did.
I healed up nicely,
My mind even felt brand new.
Only took a few
years.
But you didn’t forget me,
It seemed.
And so the cycle renewed.
It didn’t take long,
For those old embers to reignite,
The rusted furnace of
my soul,
At a dinner you arranged
For us, and oddly, your mother.
She didn’t help the situation:
When you excused yourself
To freshen up,
Your mother told me she,
Wished you and I got married,
Because apparently,
You spoke mighty highly
Of me,
Quite often.
Ain’t that a hoot?
Didn’t know what to say,
A timid “Thank you?”
Is all that came out.
So I concluded that
Our relationship,
If that’s an appropriate term,
Wasn’t ending anytime soon,
And there was no point in
Running away.

In the last four years I have experienced pains that I never thought would come to me. I have felt the searing flames of over-active nerve endings fire off throughout my body. I have taken steps that felt like red-hot coals replaced the cool hospital floors. I have felt the sting of countless needles failing to find their mark, wriggling around in a futile effort to find the crimson life. I have felt the clawing ache of ruined joints, making an effort to dissuade my every move. I have felt the burning sensation of medicine meant to eradicate invasions, slowly atrophy my veins to uselessness. I have felt what happens when the needle meant to find the fluid, finds the spine instead. Through all of that, never has anything hurt more, than loving a person that will always try to keep you close, yet make you feel so far away.

You might have loved me, for a moment,

That day you read what I wrote to you,

when you were beside yourself with

happiness.

You’ve never been talked to that way,

you said to me.

“why are you always so good to me?”

you asked sweetly.

“Because I love you”

I said, with a swollen heart.

“I love you too!”,

You beamed with emphasis,

but it must have been,

only for a moment.

Because all things fall apart,

When they’re held together with,

Stars and heavy heart.

You can snap my heart like a twig if you please,

It lies in your palm, awaiting a fatal squeeze,

A thought that never fails to bring hope and fear

equally to a soul longing for your voice in its ear.

How sweet it is when I can taste for a moment,

The compliments you give, to which my ears are bent,

Stretching the curative balm of your sonic clarity,

To last another week as you juggle my heart with verity.

Never committing yourself to the love I hold so close,

Yet giving enough to keep my heart in quiet repose,

As it sits in your hands praying for the day,

When you restore it to me, and with you I stay.

I saw you for the first time in nearly a year,

It was bittersweet, as most moments

Have been since the clock struck midnight,

Sealing the fate of the world indefinitely.

I couldn’t see your smile, but your eyes

Sparked a fire in my heart as of old.

Your warmth from six feet away,

Could set ablaze even the iciest soul.

It took everything in me to not close the gap,

to be the irresponsible one for once.

For so long I hid behind that veil of virtue,

Because I was terrified,

Of what might lay beyond the truth.

And yet here we are, in limbo,

Waiting for the sirens to die down,

And the world to speed up again.

For something…

If it must hurt, let it be quick.

And if it finds our hearts entwined,

let us not waste a moment.

Yet here we are, six feet apart,

So close to the answers,

Yet insufferably far.

Why do you stay away for so long,

when you know the warmth of my sand

And the colors I can paint the sky for you,

Lay just beyond the mountains?

Run to me, child, when you feel weak,

run to me when the world isn’t what you seek.

Don’t hesitate to drink me in, I have enough to give.

If your heart grows weary, I will help it live,

with the sound of waves lapping the shore,

the cool mist that kiss your cheeks at dawn,

And the gentle breeze easing you along.

Don’t let yourself get frozen in a moment,

Or life will be one long, and painful lament.

You had me feeling young again today.

Every ache in my bones seemed to forget

That the sun had risen three hours ago.

I felt lighter on my feet,

The laughter on my lips tasted sweet.

With every word you seem to heal

Every nerve that was screaming.

But how long can this last?

Are you here to stay?

Will you leave if I get too close?

Or is this something worth holding?

When was the last time you relied on five milligrams of anything?

It is such a seemingly insignificant amount,

That I go crazy trying to figure out

Why it refuses to let me move on.

Every time we try something new,

Its the same old story,

No appetite, joints are screaming.

The mornings are the worst,

Begging for the evening

Begging for the reason why.

Back in the ER, fill me up with more.

Ask me all the same questions,

No, I’m not from a broken home,

I just got a little booboo,

nothing you can’t fix.

As long as you have prednisone.

Back to where I started, at least, so it seems.

Riding that roller coaster once again.

The ups and downs come on like a sickness

Sometimes slow, others, it can be vicious.

At times I try to see it as a trial,

Something that can be beat.

A game that I can win without cheats

then I wake up in the morning in a daze,

Searching for the bottle through morning haze,

Take out that five milligrams and swallow,

Maybe it’ll be better tomorrow.

For anyone that is struggling with chronic illness, you are not alone. And it gets better. It is slow, and some days you might feel exactly like this poem, but it gets better. As you learn to adapt and find new ways to enjoy the things you used to. Don’t let the bumps in the road take you out. Hang in there 🙂

She walks among us, taking sips of the sweet breeze,

savoring the aromas of the meadow brushing her knees

As she wanders from grassy plain to a winter roost 

Trying to find the right soil before she takes root.

It isn’t a matter of riches or splendor that beg her to seek

A home where she can rest if she ever grows weak,

A place she can feel as free as the birds above

where there is nothing but unconditional love.

As she was born to be among the flowering cherry trees,

the dandelions, the ferns and the sweetest honeybees,

her soul begs to dance with the flowers as they sway,

to glide with the wind, every which way.

Her destiny is where she ends up with the brightest smile,

where there is no doubt it was worth her while.