Don’t you dare

Weep at my bedside,

Eyes half-open, half-shut,

Dripping upon little broken

pieces of me,

I have assembled afresh.

Don’t you dare,

Stop watching butterflies

sipping nectar all day,

Or the sky, a deep blue

At midday lunch-break,

And dare wonder if I’m

nourished too.

Don’t you dare

write me another long note,

that reads like a newsletter

from the club

they send out every Tuesday.

Don’t you dare call me,

I’m changing my number,

blocking you out,

coz what’s left to give,

that which I relinquish.

Dare feel, dare imbibe,

The world is a happy place, they say,

Dare to be confident –

with all you’ve undone & made

yours without permission.

I’ve emptied myself,

I’m now ready to regain

That which I had sworn

never to reclaim.

Because if you can go back

On your word,

So can I.