melissaahowells
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early last Sunday morning
I thought I wasn't going to be here anymore I awoke to a long hard series of squeezes in the left side of my chest they're right it comes for you at four o'clock in the morning when you least expect it taps you on the left shoulder this one was a bow and arrow driving home, through me from the front to the back then meandering jaggedly up my neck to my right jaw like a severe tooth ache yes, you monster whatever you are you have my attention there was what seemed like a long wait on the phone as I was counting in my head a long grocery list of wishes left unaccomplished I couldn't catch my breath it was ragged and wheezy, lagging several steps behind where it should've been now it is today Saturday another day and I'm breathing fine and dandy sitting here in this same spot a lot calmer wiser the pain is mostly gone but not the memory of it the deepness of it the kick-in-the-butt-wake-up-you-idiotness of it all and the ludicrousness of taking life so seriously perhaps my Father succumbed my Mother succumbed even without my having any of the risks I may have been like so many of those before me who have succumbed to the failings of their fragile hearts but it wasn't my time it wasn't there are so many things left to do so many things to see so much to hold onto while I can while life is still in front of me I can see it now its good in a way I didn't ever think was going to be possible again. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS WORK, BY THIS AUTHOR WRITER FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHT SITE TITLE RE-EDITED ON JANUARY 24, 2017 8:29AM PST Copyright November 22 2014 All Rights Reserved By This Author Meloo/Melissa A Howells Straight from her Tilt-a-World Vote for this poem |
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