I’ve been here before, this dead end on a dark lonely road.

My sense of direction never failing to the find the way here.

I hear the quiet gentle inquiry; do I need to worry about you?

Followed by, would you tell me the truth?

It takes a moment……. then, “I’d like to think so”

But it’s such a loaded question

I have the crisis number in my phone,

……. But you know I’d never call them.

Added matter of factly “I would not survive a trip to the hospital.”

I can’t remember today what it’s like

When I wasn’t in this place.

But I can remember this place, cold and dark as a tomb.

This conversation like an echo from the mountains side

A long time returning.

I can remember,

Discussions of hospitals and other……… options

Of shocks and a flash of over the cuckoo’s nest

The statement, “You need more help than I can give you.”

Landing as a cold thud wrapped around my heart.

It has to be different this time

It has to be different this time