Terminally Talented


If I grew wings and flew away…

Would you miss me…

Or would you be relieved you wouldn’t need to worry about me anymore…


You already left me anyway..
Do you think about me?

Or have the Pharisaic rules you have chosen keep your mind busy instead?

Does your busy schedule keep your mind full so you have no need to think of me anymore?

The quiet of the phone…

The ever shrinking size of the support group..

This is the common plight…

A common weight we bear…

We wish to fly away from it all.


If only we could grow wings.

If only it was that easy.


Some of us don’t survive this fight…

Some of us don’t wake from those slumbers we chose to take…

Seems easier to take that path than try to fly…

Easier to end the weight,

end the thought of why no one cares, why it’s so quiet here.

Why we feel so alone, why my support group is made of one.

The never ending question of when or if it will get to much for him and he will leave too…

And the children grow, will they learn it’s too much too?


That last person assures me he won’t.

But everyone else has, I struggle so hard to cling to those words.




Kiarn Fine Art Photographer


Struggling to be Here



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