Dear Katie,
You don’t know me,
but I’ve been where you’ve been.
I’ve dialed those three little numbers
and walked in circles until the firemen came.
I’ve watched the ambulance doors close
and then open again to unload me at the ER.
I’ve waited and listened and
tried not to listen.
And tried not to think.
You don’t know me,
but I’ve been where you are.
I’ve had the surgeries, the rehab,
and the 12-hour bandage changes.
I’ve slept sitting upright
because that was the only way it didn’t ache.
I’ve worried about how I looked
beneath the bandages.
And tried not to look.
You don’t know me,
but I am where you’re going.
This thing that tried to get you
tried to get me too
but I fought,
just like you are fighting.
I was held up by those who loved me
and by strength I never knew I had,
just like you have.
I was mighty then.
I am mightier now.
So are you.
And so you will be.
Promise.
—–
April is National Poetry Month so I’ve pledged to write 30 poems this month. Theoretically, that’s one per day but as long as I finish the month with thirty, I’ll consider that a win. Read more about National Poetry Month at the WordPress Blog.
damaged calm 