She told me, Jesus
took away the choice
to die.

I told her, ok, unsure
if more should be said-
how I told Him to take me,
even though I’m not ready,
earlier that day.

I laid in bed, a thought
turning over twice more
than my uncomfortable body:
I keep trying to take this life
in my own strength.

Taking my own life
has made lethargy
my best friend.
It’s not my life to sleep
years off.

Today, I woke up,
washed this aged companion
stuck between each eyelash,
readying myself for an answer
I already knew:
“The deadline has passed,
but you can apply for spring.”

Oh God, I’ve cried,
what have I done?
It is MY fault.
I should of listened
and stayed in school
as instructed.

My heart knew only
work for approval’s sake-
mine & those I love.
Forget the passionate
dream fueling

Get that A.
A 3.5 or higher.
A degree in something worthy of
A decent paycheck so you have
A better life for yourself without
A mass of debt later.

Be independent.
Try, try, try again.
Be the best you can be.

All these lies have engrained
within my head, heart & soul.
The ‘best you can be’ isn’t meant negatively,
but oh, how I twist my mother’s advice to mean “world standards.”

I want to be me
minus perfuse apology
for failings never mine
to grieve-

a redirection
I can’t yet see.


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