Doctor’s Orders

Doctor’s Orders

On that rainy afternoon,

you promised forever

while writing my prescription

for the pain

you intended to dictate.

You cupped my face

and uttered sweet nothings

that lead to somethings not worth whispering in outside spaces.

She’d never understand.

She’ll send me away.

Modern-day Hamlet and Ophelia.

Like my namesake,

I drowned in a river created by the rush of water

long discovered to be tears

fallen for the powerful seeking to taunt the powerless.

I could not say no

when you said yes.

Gilded cages knew no lock.

Yet, you held the key

to happiness and peace

you shunned to the juvenile detention center

of which I sit in my thirties.

Let me go.

Let me go.

Let

me

go.

Posted by

Lover of Words. Mother. Teacher. Traveler. Writer. Bionic woman against ignorance. Finding the balance between words and reality. M.Ed. built to school you.

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