It all started when I went in,
A woman with a white scrub waited for me,
Each step seemed louder than the other,
But that didn’t seem to faze me.
I sat down on the chair,
Mother next to me.
I’d done this to many times,
for it to seem scary.
She took the files,
And then asked me.
How long had I had it,
For how long was I tied to this seat.
Since I was six I said to her,
Smiling without worry.
A somber look filled her face,
“Oh dear, I’m sorry” She replied back to me.
But that was before,
I lived in a fantasy.
Oh how much I prefer,
My dream better than reality.
Down goes my smile,
Pulled by gravity.
Boy do I wish,
I could stay carefree.
Then this morning,
My friend did ask me.
Can you die from it,
Will you ever leave me?
I wish I could say no,
But sure my cousin and grandma did that to me.
But I never even noticed,
That same could happen to me.
YOU ARE READING
My Heart.
PoetryVery emotional collection for me. I've known that I've had Rheumatic Heart Disease since i was eight. I'm looking for no sympathy.I never realised what I was living with, till now