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The River - Losing Myself To Xanax

Posted: February 4, 2017, 7:11 PM
They say the grass is greener on the other side
But I'm convinced
My grass is greener
Beneath your feet as we stand alongside one another.

We play beside the river
Current swirling and foaming
A dangerous game
One which I could never win.

I don't remember the day that I tumbled in
The river cooling and comforting to my burning skin
All I remember was the way you looked at me
As I fell back into the current
And let it carry me from the shore.

For two weeks I bathed
Drifting carefree as the crows circling above
Believing I was safest in the river
Hidden from the pain I left at the surface.

Once again I find myself on land
Pulled from the river, saved
Realizing just before drowning
That I had ventured too deep.

Yet still I am lost
Wandering beside the river
Watching it froth and bubble
Afraid to slip in once more.

I returned to where I had left you on the bank
I called your name
Listened to it echo
And prayed you had not been taken by the river as well.

That night I watched the stars
Recalling how they appeared in my memories
Impossibly beautiful
Yet somehow less brilliant than your open heart
Impossibly close
And still I grasped your open hand.

Dawn approached
And one after the other the stars faded to day
Sick without sleep
I sat paralyzed by the river
Craving your return.

Days passed
And I realized that the grass was no longer green
I began to walk alone alongside the shore
As the air grew cold and the leaves turned brown.

One morning I realized
Chest tight and eyes sparkling
That I had no recollection
Of which side I had crawled grasping from the water.

Dry once more
I wished not for the river
But for the soft grass, fragrant and young
We had once shared underfoot.

I dreamt of a bridge
One I might find
Had heard of in stories
And hoped to be real.

I doubted it's existence
Unsure which way to travel
Yet something inside
Begged me to continue.

I walk beside the river now
Sometimes looking in
But mostly looking forward
Eager that I might catch glimpse of the bridge.

Spring approaches
Beginnings promised in the budding trees
Each day a bit brighter
Each blade underfoot growing softer.

I try to be satisfied
But still
I imagine there is nothing quite so green
As the grass beneath your feet
As I cross the bridge towards you.

-An original poem, 2/4/2017. For all those who have lost themselves and those they love to xanax abuse.

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Joined: June 27, 2016

Posted: February 6, 2017, 10:44 AM

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Joined: October 29, 2016

Posted: March 12, 2017, 12:28 PM
Amazing and Beautifully put- ThankYou for sharing
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