Stay

Insomnia has found its home again.
And I’m not fighting the late night insanity
    that is so easily engulfing me.
I am thinking too much. Again.
                    Though just for you, I ate some yogurt, so feel better.
                                                                                                                                                    [i’m not starved, yet]
and sitting here,
with Anthony Green playing a little
too loud for this perfect night of crickets
and warm end of summer breezes...
I am starting to wonder, if
there isn’t something perfect about the
way my scars dance in pairs across my arm.
If there isn’t something dumb founding-ly
astonishing about how when I remember my
first year of highschool all I can think of is being
committed more than I was actually in school.
With
summer ending, and winter only one
small [favorite] season away, I have to wonder
what horrors these dead months will bring.
    Another heart attack?       
        Could her lungs fail again?
  Bronchitis?
        Pneumonia?
    What else could be thrown at her?
                    [at me?]

Would they kill her this time?
    Can I even survive another winter
of having to keep her a float and making it
through working full time. Going to school full time,
not to mention taking care of my young naive [17 year old]
sister                                 again?
Do I have enough lies[lives] left in me, to keep
promising that “of course she’ll be okay,
                this time”[?]
How do I do this again?
Because somehow, every spring brings
amnesia, and I again lose how
to pull through the months that steal away my
                sun.   
                    [steal away my mother]
and when time turns cold and the
days become short, the nights eternally longer,
whilst I begin the long
        up hill
    never ending
battle of trying to survive
keeping you alive.
And never does it occur to me,
that I am saving you
        and killing [me].

Because I love you too much.
I will always lay down before father time
and mother death to
    beg
        pray and
            grovel
for you to just stay.

Reviews

[kaycee]

This is so sad. I had to read it a few times. I am having trouble finding the right way to say how I am feeling. I think I'll just write a poem...