mending may

this is how we mend;
our mantra is pulled from an incomplete to-do list,
when the ghosts come (this time), i’ll be strong enough to defend.

we stayed in separate rooms, so helplessly afraid to extend
into walls where we knew you should be;
this is how we mend.

i sit in school (they sit at home) while you descend
deeper into a pale, blue hospital bed;
when the ghosts come (this time), i’ll be strong enough to defend.

i’ll sit from 5 to 7 desperately avoiding what your eyes portend
(i see 25 pills wanting to come back in. the storm is brewing again.);
this is how we mend.

you’ll tell me about the boy who knows egyptian, while (down the hall) they pretend
to know you more than flesh and bone. they will watch as i say goodbye (again).
when the ghosts come (this time), i’ll be strong enough to defend.

i hear you, just a room away now. you will contend
with the two talking men inside your head while i write stories searching for tomorrow.
this is how we mend;
when the ghosts come (this time), i’ll be strong enough to defend.