LL I

What more do you want from me?
An arm, a leg?
Here, I might as well saw them off and give them to you because you have taken everything else from me.

You stole the glowing light from within me that made me shine with confidence.

You stole my heart, and pulverised it.

You stole my ability to feel; after you drowned me in feeling anything but you.

You stole my ability to trust through the compulsive lying and repetitive gambling.

You stole my kindness; ripped it from within me, threw it to the floor numerous times and watched it bleed dry.

You stole my thoughts; my mind is lost in memories and what if’s.

You stole my strength, and now I have succumb to this illness as being my defeator.

You stole my hope for the future, for romance, for change, for what once was.

You stole my pride, in myself and in you.

You stole my happiness, and now I fear I will be chained to this numbness forever.

You stole my ability to self-heal, and to have more strength as this illness destroys my body.

You stole my sunshine, and left me with a painted grey cloud of excuses.

You stole my time; I waited for you, I waited for you some more… the waiting was neverending.

You stole my generosity and overused it to your advantage because you knew you had me wrapped around your little finger.

You stole my ability to forgive and forget; because every time I believed you, you knived me in the back.

You stole my independence, as my life always revolved around you.

You stole my dreams; of having an honest relationship, a family, a future.

You stole my ability to love, or ever be loved again.

So, trust me when I say that giving you one of my limbs is nothing in comparison to what you have already taken from me.

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29 comments

  1. This could equally be about a lover or your illness, and the ambiguity of that adds to the power. It can stand for many things. It’s been a while since I read one of your creative posts, and this is indeed powerful. Heartbreaking even, to hear such unfiltered honesty about feelings. All I can say (which wont change anything you feel) is you will learn to do all these things again one day. And you can write the next poem about how you learned to love, trust, believe, and live again.

    Hang in there.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. You will eventually come across someone who will make your life worth living. I was fortunate enough to meet the person who became my husband while in my 3rd year of college. One of my friends (she is about 10 years older) met hers while just starting her college life. Unfortunately, her husband passed away from the cancer he thought he had conquered before they met.
    Keep your options open. The person who delivers your medicines may be the one, or the next person you meet on the street may have an answer for you. Who knows? The person you are looking for may have already passed on. You will be together eventually!
    Keep your chin up!
    Jeanette Hall

    Liked by 1 person

  3. You will find those things again. You think they were taken from you; they were only borrowed and used. You’ll get them back, and you’ll think they’re broken – but eventually, you’ll polish them up, fix the rips, paint the chips, and you’ll have something more beautiful than you did before.

    I promise.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Cass, you make me want to come sit with you and eat a tub of ice cream and bitch about relationships and mourn the unfairness of life. You make me want to cry with you, comfort you, and rage at the world with you. Sometimes you make me laugh and even briefly smile. You make me feel your life, in all it’s shades and textures, all it’s occasional joys and more common sorrows.

    That may not seem like much of a special thing, but your posts give me a gift that is worth more than diamonds. I have been in this pit of numbness, an unfeeling zombie, for so long I despair now of ever feeling anything again. The meds don’t work, never have, no matter which ones they try. But your posts, somehow, have the ability to make me cry. Or smile. That is no small feat.

    I grieve with you over this new loss, I have been there far too many times. It is a shattering trauma to have to experience, especially when you are already in such a vulnerable place. But please also know, that even in your grief and pain, you have the ability to shine some light into someone else’s darkness. Your light has not been stolen, because you have given it to me. I hope I can somehow, someday give it back to you.

    – Zoé

    Liked by 2 people

    1. You made me teary, Zoe. I didn’t think my posts had the ability to reach someone in that way. I literally just write the feelings from within me, and most times they don’t even make sense. Especially this post. It was written in between bouts of tears and rage.

      I would absolutely love to eat ice cream with you, and bitch about this horror rollercoaster.

      Thank you… For everything. There was light in this hope, just a glimmer.

      xxxx

      Liked by 2 people

  5. Reblogged this on dimdaze and commented:
    This post brought me to tears. It is so real, so raw. It’s as if can feel Cass’ pain. I hope with all my heart that she can get her life back.

    I hope you’ll take a few minutes and read this post. Then go to her blog, and click follow. Once you begin to read her stories you’ll fall in love with her, as I have. She could be my daughter. They’re both the same age.

    Liked by 1 person

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