I learned to survive one warm frigid night.
How we choose to view the situations we experience in our lives, determines how we live the rest of our lives
I decided, I don't want to die...
Can you hear the whispers?
They are calling out your name.
Can you hear them calling?
The whispers make you insane.
Find out what is different.
Find out the truth.
Find out if they are real,
or if the lie is within you?
When you fell from the sky,
an angel lost her wings.
When you fell from grace,
I lost everything.
Hate I do not feel,
Why, I still don’t know.
I still haven’t found my way back,
To the girl I knew long ago.
Some day’s I still cry.
Some day’s I find I can still laugh.
But I will never forget,
everything I once thought I had.
When you heard them calling,
did you argue for me?
When you listened to the voices,
was there any part of you that disagreed?
Do you feel sorrow?
Do you feel regret?
Do you feel bad?
for showing me death?
You stole from me,
one warm frigid night,
an illusion I used,
and believed I needed to survive.
Step by Step,
I learned how to breathe.
Little by little,
I slowly found me.
I have learned to accept,
I will never get back,
the girl I lost,
That was protected and kept.
Who I am now,
is who I will be,
and who I will introduce to the world,
as simply being me.
I learned how to survive,
one warm frigid night.
A night I stopped wishing,
that I would soon die.
This is a poem about a boy I once knew, who was sick. I was one of his only friends, and he was my very best friend. Our friendship began when we were both children and continued until a night that I still have a hard time remembering the way things came to be. Although I do not recall every moment that led to the moment I remember vividly, I do recall the way that the world changed in the instant that his sickness overcame our friendship and showed me, I don’t want to die. This is a poem about a boy I once knew, that showed me I don’t want to give up on life and within that, made me stop wishing for death. From his sickness, I learned how capable I am of surviving, until the day I stopped surviving and began living.
Not all sad stories need a sad ending-I am writing mine with laughter, love and more importantly…life.
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