We’re All Healing From Something

It’s been twenty years

since I saw his chest rise,

then fall for the last time.

The room became so still

for just a few moments

it was as though

the entire world had stopped breathing.

 

It’s been four-and-a-half years

since I moved to an island

where those insidious machines don’t exist.

Twenty six hundred miles separates me

from the uncontrollable urge to play games

where no one ever really wins

and where everyone holds their breath for a potential payout.

 

It’s been three months

since I received the words,

“I’m sorry” in an early morning text.

I had no idea they meant goodbye

and would take my breath away

when I found out on Facebook the next day

he’d killed himself the day before.

 

It’s been a week

since my friend came precariously close

to crossing over.

Her lungs have furiously fought for breath

for most of her life

and today, as she lays in the hospital healing,

I Thank God she’s still here.

 

A beloved’s death.

A dangerous addiction.

A broken heart.

A life-threatening emergency.

The list goes on.

An illness.

Chronic pain.

A job lost.

A bad decision.

Failure.

Abandonment.

Anger.

Betrayal.

An old wound.

A new scar.

We’re all healing from something

and we all breathe the same air.

 

photo and poem by Lila Danielle liladanielle.com