Thursday, January 9, 2025

Waiting to Survive

 




Waiting to Survive

 

                My heart constantly races these days

                Mini panic attacks

                It should remind me that I’m alive

                But I know my heart is cracked

                So, I can only imagine it is going to beat so hard one day

                That it will beat its last

 

                I heard a story about a woman’s dog that attacked her

                Her beloved pet

                Now I fear that too

                That the dogs I depend on to protect me

                To be with me

                To adore me

                Will soon turn on me

                Like he turned on me

                Much of what I held and hold as true

                Now frightens me

 

                Raccoons come at night to my chicken coop

                They never get in

                But they keep trying

                One of my chickens died the day he left

                He threw her in the trash

                My son then came, buried her for me

                Out in the back

                Where so much love resides in the dirt

                So many other beloved pets

 

                I go over and over inside my head

                The things I will miss

                The things I do miss

                The things I was missing

                I was missing my heart racing

                I was missing my heart reminding me we were alive

                I was missing so many things that weren’t right

                But now, I miss him in my life

                And I will miss being his wife

 

                One night the raccoons might get to my chickens

                If that happens

                I’ll bury them out back

                Where there is so much love that resides in the dirt

                Never again

                Will I allow love

                To be thrown in the trash

 

                Panic attacks are not for the weary

                Not for the weak

                Not for the defeated

                Panic is a kin to joy

                The shrill in your body is just as extreme

                While one feels darker

                Panic feels darker

                It is your heart and mind telling you

                Stay alive

                But the shrill of joy does that as well

                Only with a bright light

                Joy excites

                Panic cries

 

                The waiting is the hardest part

                The waiting to survive

 

 

 

 


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