Member-only story
Three Ways to Love Me
A Poem
Three Ways to Love Me
Let me fill my head
With maddening poetry, words
That distracts me from the lyrics
Of our daily conversations.
Let me lay my head
In your lap and please,
Do not mock me for
Pinning my feet up
Against the wall and
Crushing a heating pad
Against my abdomen.
Please bring me weed,
Even when I don’t ask for it;
I usually win the game
Of putting off medication
That would make it easier
To meditate despite the pain.
I forgo the little relief
A simply plant can bring;
I fear I am turning
Into a statue in the garden.
My mom must’ve become
Medusa;
I can barely move my legs,
My feet already turned to stone.
I know this paranoia
Would be exhaled
With a big cloud,
The fire in my legs
Would become embers
In my center.
These daggers in my abdomen
Turn to day-old surgery wounds.
I will be able
To actually talk to you.
I leave this on your pillow,
On a Saturday morning.
While I sneak away
For my weekly appointment,
I hope you will learn
That I’m harder on myself
Than I ever mean to be
When it comes to you.
What can I do
To better love you?
