Tragedy
Shock therapy.
The bolts ran through your body, and my classmates laughed.
As an encore, the teacher played a film of a woman with multiple personalities.
(It was the biggest joke in the hall.)
I held on to my tears, seeing your face in those jolts, and your cries in that woman. I saw your humanity, and your anguish, and the god awful cruelty of this world.
Closing my eyes to fall asleep, I saw you. You lying on that table with electrodes attached to your head. Fighting, resisting, or lying peacefully, I know that it doesn’t matter.
It would all have happened anyway.
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The years went by and I lost you. I had to grow up, and others said you were not fit.
I learned and learned and learned, and loved you all the while.
I learned enough to fight for you. Tackling county, state and country, I fought. I used every tool I had—I fought with my mind, my teeth, my claws, and my tears to give you peace.
And I lost.
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I lost.
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I ended up losing so many times that I lost myself.
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Now I close my eyes, and I see you walking--
Alone, you are in the bitter cold snow, with no loving arm around you.
Shadow smile, your death will never stop haunting me.
(As your life hurt us both.)
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