Sunday, June 14, 2009

Death Not Poetry

Death stalks my sisters,
And I, having courted death all my life long
Know if I were given a death sentence
I'd feel relief that it had now been taken
Out of my hands, my need for relief from the illness
The longing for relief from the illness stalking me
Finally done with living, done with pain, done with
Longing dead at last

Yet I take the drugs that keep me going
Without which my heart would kill me
My mind would have killed me long ago
Gassed like Sylvia poisoned by the life I'd led
The bad bad bad daddies and my only Mother
The genes I carried for crazy crazy crazy hearing
Voices of grief so filled with sorrow
There is no room left for life

I'll take to my bed with a book and read this sad life away

©2010 Peggy Pendleton

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