I'm using up my resources;
I'm using what I've got to get you back.
'Write what you know.'
I know very little these days.I
feel lost in an ocean of empty space
I know that I can't find a point to it all
when you're gone.
I know I tear up,
and I have to struggle to keep
my face from crumbling when I think of you.
I know I miss you terribly,
I know if you got better,
I would be better for you.
I would go to church and doctor appointments with you.
I know if you said,"I think I'm sick. I'm scared."
I would fight tooth and nail to be with you and support you while you got better.
I know that all the formalities of life would be easier if you were around
to smile at me
to talk to.
I know that you are sick.
You have delusions.
I know this isn't your fault,
and I hope you know I would never blame you for it.
I know you don't think you're sick.
I know where you're coming from.
When I was depressed, I couldn't see it.
When you tried to talk to me about it,
I thought you were blaming me for it.
I was sick,
and I couldn't tell because it was twisted up inside my head.
But you were watching out for me,
and you could see it.
I should have listened because I know you'd never lie to me;
you'd never set out to hurt me.
I hope you know I'm not lying to you;
I would never hurt you.
You are sick, and you can't tell,
and I'm just trying to look out for you.
I know that you took the medicine once,
and called me to talk about your father,
After that one pill,
you sounded eerily like the mother I have been missing for months,
I think you took the medicine
five times at least,
nine times at most.
I know you promised me
you would take it for a month on Friday.
I know by Wednesday of the next week
you weren't taking it.
You told me so;
you told me you didn't like how it made you feel.
I know the medicine was working,
and I know it was bringing you back to me.
I think if you were to take the medicine for a month,
you would be yourself again;
you would be the mom that I adore.
And if you took the medicine for a month,
and you still wanted to wear
a ring for every finger,
five bracelets on each wrist
If you wanted to wear my clothes
or get piercings
or play your music loud all night
I would support it
because it would be You doing it,
and that's really all I need.
I know if there was a deal I could make
with you so that you'd take your medicine,
I would make it regardless of the terms.
No Xanax for a month- Done.
Clean the whole house- Done.
Summer school- Done.
Get a job- Done.
Anything you ask of me to do
while you get treatment,
I would do.
Anything to have you back.
And if we were together again,
I know I would be better.
I wouldn't take you for granted.
I wouldn't be so angry.
I wouldn't shut you out.
I wouldn't make you worry.
I know if you said
"I'm checking into the hospital.I'm getting treatment."
My world would start spinning right again.
'Write what you want to read.'
What I want to read
is a letter from you from the hospital
saying you're getting better,
saying we'll be together soon.
I want to read
transferring custody of us
back to you.
I want to read All the Hits So Far
But Don't Expect Too Much
in the back of your car,
as we are driving home.
© Copyright 2009 Abby Almon