Gone.

Wed, 08/14/2019 - 16:56 -- Cino

Gone.

Disappear.

Fly away.

I’m struck with the grief of leaving you

Or was it you leaving me?

In my head only one thing seems to matter-

Joining in your absence 

Leaving behind a worse wake.

I’ve touched more lives than you

I’ve known more people than you-

Well, live people at least.

 

To leave would mean a million more

Grieving like I am

To leave would mean that all this treatment

All this treatment didn’t work.

10 months of wasted money

Help a young child find themself

4 years of living hell

My body on fire where no-one can see

Helpless

Left to succumb to the greatest urge

Left to ponder my decisions

Left to weigh the options

 

Suicide

On my mind

Never leaves me hanging.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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