Five Things In Leaving

Left a place, a person, a state of grace,

Not my choice, but accepting it nonethless,

Did the noble thing despite the screaming inside,

Wanted her to see me leave, to see if my leaving mattered,

But said ‘sure, it’s fine, go,’

And took myself away,

What I left behind were pieces

Which never healed over the same.

But there were five things I wanted to ask for,

But anxiety stitched my lips shut

To be seen

To be loved,

To be free

To matter

To be there.

Accolades and objects,

Achievements stacked up like treasure,

But what I wouldn’t give,

To have tried to unpick the stitches,

Blood running down my chin,

Speak my heart aloud

And have it heard

But there is silence,

Thick as the smoke I use

To sail through the bitter hours,

So six things, seven, who can say?

Sometimes one thing,

But nothing you could put in your back pocket,

Nothing, in the end, you could walk away from,



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