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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3943 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Crossing Borders without Passports Danielle Ryan My momma told me the story of late one night in a quiet room How her daddy came in to tell her she was his favorite and how he loved her best She always wondered if the others were left with the same farewell even though she didn’t know then it was goodbye Maybe this story is why I have an unnatural fear of bridges What sadness he must have felt to choose his own time *** My sister She is just a mess all the time She’s always been different People treated her that way even when she was too small to notice things weren’t right First it was Zoloft then Lithium (when she took it) then it was Craig and her little sunshine, Cori They all tried to make her better Most of the time they worked Then borderline personality disorder Which she casually refers to as BPD Borderline? How close is she to the edge? And what will push her over? She’s not supposed to be there She belongs here, with me with us In reality *** And momma again We never talk about it but there is always Prozac in the house I remember the sound of her sobbing and sniffling on our living room sofa While I would lie in bed afraid to go ask her what was the matter *** So here I am Strangely guilty that I haven’t been cursed Momma’s saving grace, I am She thinks she got lucky with me The normal one who escaped it all Terrified to disappoint in those times I need to weep Which have been creeping up more and more Who invited this here? I didn’t leave any doors open to let the wailing in (For four days straight) It couldn’t be my pen to write these words Of desperation and departure And just the thought that I’ve been caught is enough to make me feel like drowning There’s no diagnosis here How did I cross over from me to there? |
