Poetry- Stepping into Done

I’m done.

Done fighting for others sobriety and drug-free life.

I have nothing left,

Just awkward hugs and sad goodbyes.

For the first time, I shrug in surrender.

This life has hurled me from one end to the other.

I’m done.

Lift me to the skies, so that I might rise..

And find peace among the clouds.

Where silence is beauty, and time escapes the loneliness of now.

Done hoping and waiting,

sitting and wasting.

I’ve lost my life to selfish need,

selfish choice and selfish greed.

I’m done..

I have no words, no advice.

For shallow wrongs and infrequent rights.

Let me go.

I’ve learned all I need to know.

Done.

I can’t stand by and watch episode nine, and another ten years ahead.

I’d rather go, I’d rather sleep, mental illness says.. I’d rather be dead.

Dead to love and joy and hope.

Dead to laughter, or fun, or tears.

Nope.

I don’t want to be here.

Take me away, in far out seas.

Hair thrown back, drifter in a breeze..

Of peace and quiet, and calm I never knew.

Memories could remind me, but they only elude.

Done.

So say goodbye and go.

Leave me here to rot or go.

But walk away.

Not in time, but now, today.

For my heart beats strong, yet fights to live on…

..In this fighters fight against the drug and alcohols might.

I run.

Alone. Triumphant.

I go.

Labeled one word.

I have finally won.

When I proclaim to myself..

..I’m Done.

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