Recovery

by nourayasmine   Feb 3, 2020


This isn't
a poem about you.
I can't write about you anymore.
You're gone,
even our memories aren't
that clear now.

I forgot about how you smell.
I forgot about how you laugh.
I forgot the way you give
each household item a name.
I barely remember our
conversations.
You left,
you selfishly, recklessly left.
You left me with a long
list of meds to take
every twelve hours.
So this poem isn't about you.

My therapy sessions will
not start with how much progress
I made getting over your death.
I will not
wish you were here
to witness my success.

I will let you go,
because you chose to go.
You chose to be
your homeland's war hero,
and my biggest
disappointment.

5


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Latest Comments

  • 3 weeks ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    Be still my heart, this is gut-wrenching. As always, your heart shares such deep, intimate pain and there is such raw emotion in every journey you write and live out, through remembering and surviving and grieving and recovering and all of those things. Beautifully heartbreaking...

  • 3 weeks ago

    by Star

    I always admire how powerful every poem you write and honest they are. Even when they're sad or you are fighting against depression.
    Writing is some sort of therapy for me, I hope it is for you too. :)

  • 3 weeks ago

    by Brenda

    Oh, this one is a hard read. It's hard to let go of someone who was so much to you-hugs

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