PAWS FOR ART: Diagnosed.

PAWS FOR ART: Diagnosed.

You didn’t believe me.

 

You said I was okay,

No,

You said I was “healthy.”

 

You said my heart was just falling asleep

Hearts aren’t meant to fall asleep—

They are meant to coo at the sound of a lover’s voice,

to fight irrational battles against the mind,

to pound on their cages with an undying need for attention,

to beat.

 

You said I just needed to slow down and catch my breath

Breath is not meant to escape—-

It is meant to enliven the lungs with a minty, cooling sensation,

to sweet talk the air and lure it inside,

to keep pace and ease the running thoughts,

to follow a pattern. Consistently.

 

The day I learned that you were wrong,

I met Relief.

 

My heart still palpitates,

and my breath still escapes

My vision still imagines worlds foreign to Reality,

and my body still worships Panic’s constant attacks

My mind still chases the circles my thoughts have shaped themselves into,

and my hands still shiver at any false prediction of Fear’s arrival

 

But,

I met Relief,

And he and I have become lifelong friends.

 

 

 

~Blue Roses

 

This is an installment in The Retriever’s new creative writing section.  If you would like to submit your creative writing or art for possible publication in The Retriever, please contact pawsforartsubmissions@gmail.com.

 

 

 

 

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