Broken Plates
My nervous system
Feels like broken plates
I’ve canceled the appointments
The scans were gonna add up
The physical therapy seemed daunting
The neurologist, the heart doctor
I got overwhelmed
And would have rather been in pain
A medical mystery it seems
I even canceled therapy because my therapist turned into
My abusive grandmother
I can’t find another
I’ve tried
The last one canceled on me
I dug my feet in dirt and made myself
Breathe
The repressed memories started eating at me
Just how many people took advantage?
So many questions
So many realizations
I stopped taking those vitamins
I got terrified of the anti-depressants
And I got buried under the piles of non-existent money
I can’t afford to be broken
2 thoughts on "Broken Plates"
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Your poem beautifully shows how getting help can be hard and overwhelming. I love the last line.
Nobody uses
metaphore like you do.