I Am Full Of Hang-ups

You scared me. Slapped the couch,
said: “Yup, it’s time you leave!”
And only 18, I remained poised, almost serene
Made a call, packed, later that week,
Slipped out.
Bye Dad.

You infuriated me. Acted nonchalant,
said: “Too tired to fight, don’t need this, go away!”
And only 16, I remained poised, but dismayed
Made a call, packed, later after a few days,
Hopped in with Pops.
Bye Mom.

You judged me. Raging in insults,
said: “You think you’re so great & smart?!!”
And only 19, I remained still, pained
Made a call, packed toiletries, desperate to get away,
Reached Dan, telephoned Paul.
Bye Sister.

You loved me. Unconditionally,
said: “I may not understand, but I care.”
And only 20, I’d push you away, scared
Forget the phone, answered your stare,
Took up your invitation to feeling.
Hello Jordan?

You loved me. Deeply and dearly,
said: “You are so very special to me.”
And only 27, felt safe in the arms of my pub-luvin’ man
“No need to call, just come over, m’am,”
You gave me a ring,
Hello Tony?

You stunned me. Comically and with truth,
said: “You’re not a downer at all” and “Get a grip.”
And only 39, I was making a new faithful friend.
Never heard from you again,
My Enigmatic, Final Muse,
Piss off: never reach me, Reese.

And now? Telephones have been replaced by screens.
New friends do not know this history.
Old friends are busy with families
Acquaintances provide instant relief.

Psychiatrists will label me with a disorder.
That I’m hopeless, I’ve left too big a mess, it’s over.
#Selfcareisnotselfish reminds me to stay true to me.
Spirituality will urge me to have faith in the future.

I am one of the Everybodies who is all alone
Going straight to the phone,
With all those memories of lost loves
And bad connections.
— I am full of hang ups.

But if you tell me I’ve got your ear
And you keep me in your heart & protect me, dear,
I promise I’ll talk you through the long nights
Entertain you on your long drives, under starlight.

You amaze me. Smiling, getting up in the morning,
saying: “My intention is to be loving and healthy.”
And turning 40, I breathe, wearily,
I call out your name,
Please hold for me, I’m mourning,
Hi, I’m Sylvie,
Is anybody there?

© Sylvie Hill, 2014

Duct by dixon

Art: dixon / “Duct” / 90x50cm / enamel on canvas / 2005