By the Next Dose

Self-portrait.

It has broken in.


By the Next Dose

I hear them above again
On their way
Always getting there-
Going – always gone.

For not one moment can they stop reminding me
There is a place I have yet to reach.
There is someone I am supposed to be,
But even she has long lost belief

In that moment of gathered change.
My freshly written page witnessed by the light
Of rewarded days, rewards of grace – my path retraced
After future’s “somehow…someway”

I pour them all out again,
Piled in each hand back and forth –
As if closing then opening a door…
I don’t know what I wait for when it won’t
Matter the difference – it won’t matter who understands

Here alone, I’ve waited
I’ve given myself fair chance

And even with miles between
It’s the same story – the very same scene
The same cry, the same bleed,
The same dying I repeat

And I know just what everything not happening means.
Nothing apart the nightmare –
A sky never of peace.
The angels, dream fed then gutted in my sleep…

I am sorry I wade below so shapelessly undone,
So ruined by my reason.
And I won’t know you long enough to love, but
I promise I won’t need you far beyond what you’ve become

And this time, of us,
I’ll be the first gotten rid of.

————————

I started this poem one night last year. Right before taking my medication, I sat there pouring the tablets from one hand to the other, thinking about all sorts of possibilities.

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