A Passionate Soul

KEEP BREATHING

Day 1:

I sit here so lonely,

My breath coming in deep gasps.

This heart of mine is aching,

I am still but awake.

You speak to me,

You tell me its okay.

I listen,

But do I really believe you?

At night the tears come,

Fast and hot.

The aching is too much to bare,

Why can’t I be shot?

Day 2:

You say this will work,

You can help me.

That much I seem to believe,

But how and why?

I explain to you my feelings:

I am in a gloomy pasture,

Roses are withered,

A soul’s departure.

You get that it’s a meadow,

My emotions are many.

The pain ¾ of that,

Almost full of hurt, you see.

I get up to leave,

I start a coughing fit.

A woman in white comes to get me,

Leaving you in awe.

At dinner they ask how it was,

I don’t speak.

They don’t push,

I’m not ready to tell, not yet.

Day 3:

We talk about my family,

How I view them.

I don’t say much,

You seem to get a lot from that.

I ask to change the topic,

You agree.

I’m glad,

“My family is not much to speak of.”

We talk of school,

I snicker and laugh.

You wait,

I hope that you didn’t see that I dreaded that class.

I tell you I only have two friends,

They’re nice.

They get me,

For once.

We break,

It’s lunch.

I say to you, “Se you again, I guess.”

Then the door slams shut.

Day 4:

Here we are again,

This time I’m on my bed.

“I couldn’t get up this morning.” I tell.

“That’s fine.” You say.

You comment about the IV’s

You ask if they help.

I shake my head,

And tell you about the pain they give me.

The nurse comes in,

She makes me turn on my back.

A bucket in front of my face,

I cough up the mess.

When it’s done you ask, “Can we start?”

I sit in my bed pillows fluffed up.

You ask me what I want to talk about,

I say, “I’m ready to tell you my past.”

 I was born with Cystic Fibrosis,

Got mucus in my lung.

It’s hard to breath,

And my heart thuds to hard.

They say I don’t have much longer to live,

They are right, you know?

My family barely visits,

They don’t want a sick kid to show.

So I’m stuck in this hospital alone,

With two friends with cancer in their lungs.

The clock is ticking for us,

Until we’re gone.

I’m only 15,

I’ve been through so much.

But now I can say,

That light I see at times I’m am ready for today.

©opyright RHODA