I Wasn’t There

Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

1283

Abstract

ere</i> when he punched the roommate later sequestered in a police car The roommate Knew Knew, Knew Your brother said I don’t want to know how he found you.</p><p id="7477"><i>I wasn’t there</i> when Albert, your cat who you would never leave alone, your baby hid terrified under your bed all night til I arrived.</p><p id="daed">. <i>I wasn’t there</i> Did you feel pain? Did you know you were leaving this world? Were you scared? I wasn’t there to hold your hand.</p><p id="f07f"><i>I was there</i> the next day to rescue Albert now my cat hiding under bed strewn with blankets and sheets sullied in fluids dark and FINAL.</p><p id="776c"><i>I was there</i> five days before your world ended my world collapsed to treat you to dinner I was so worried drove to Gainesville after work.</p><p id="dde3"><i>I was there</i> just the wrong day We sat outside a sandwich shop You were pale and thin you barely ate but ordered dessert frozen yogurt gave me a bite I wish I could think of the name of that shop.</p><p id="a114"><i>My youngest son, Brandon, died February 12, 2019. He was the sweetest soul who ever lived. I’ve been needing to write this poem, as it’s been brewing inside of me for months. It was very cathartic once it came out. Here is a poem that Brandon wrote while in

Options

rehab before his death:</i></p><div id="d5e1" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/senseless-agony-66f3ed45001f"> <div> <div> <h2>Senseless Agony</h2> <div><h3>My son OD’d a few years after writing this poem in rehab</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*w_v24Z3VyLRTHi8HTlV3kw.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="fc0e" class="link-block"> <a href="https://medium.com/@annmsteele99"> <div> <div> <h2>Ann Marie Steele - Medium</h2> <div><h3>Read writing from Ann Marie Steele on Medium. Poet, writer, yogi, acrobat, Mom and English teacher - not in that…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*FGVvN5DVa9TCEcEU)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="8046"><a href="undefined">Ann Marie Steele</a></p></article></body>

I wasn’t there when you went off your meds

Photo by author 2018.

I wasn’t there when sirens wailed lights flashed they removed you like a slab of meat like you weren’t my Brandy Baby just 21.

I wasn’t there I was in front of Cantina Louie waiting for Taco Tuesdays with friends I stooped to the sidewalk when your Dad called heartbroken.

I wasn’t there when you went off your meds didn’t answer my texts all day gave up hope tried something new to feel normal.

I wasn’t there when you got out of bed drove to Walgreens button up shirt and tie nabbed needles sent your Dad a picture said you had a job interview.

I wasn’t there When the needles pierced your skin Monday then Tuesday again just wanted to escape but not forever.

I wasn’t there when your brother kicked down the door found you legs dangling over bed face first blood dripping from your mouth he wouldn’t describe more.

I wasn’t there when he punched the roommate later sequestered in a police car The roommate Knew Knew, Knew Your brother said I don’t want to know how he found you.

I wasn’t there when Albert, your cat who you would never leave alone, your baby hid terrified under your bed all night til I arrived.

. I wasn’t there Did you feel pain? Did you know you were leaving this world? Were you scared? I wasn’t there to hold your hand.

I was there the next day to rescue Albert now my cat hiding under bed strewn with blankets and sheets sullied in fluids dark and FINAL.

I was there five days before your world ended my world collapsed to treat you to dinner I was so worried drove to Gainesville after work.

I was there just the wrong day We sat outside a sandwich shop You were pale and thin you barely ate but ordered dessert frozen yogurt gave me a bite I wish I could think of the name of that shop.

My youngest son, Brandon, died February 12, 2019. He was the sweetest soul who ever lived. I’ve been needing to write this poem, as it’s been brewing inside of me for months. It was very cathartic once it came out. Here is a poem that Brandon wrote while in rehab before his death: