Scared

We've had a very scary week but had some excellent news this morning from the doctor, who thinks the problem is an infection rather than anything more serious. 

Scared

After days of staring into space,
telling me 'I'm fine',
you catch me unawares -
I'd thought I'd done something,
or not done something -
never dreaming you'd confess
to worrying about a pain,
a soreness that won't go away. 
I'm so cross you didn't share
this most vital news with me
I brush off your plea 
you didn't want to worry me,
scold you for catastrophising,
reassure you it could be anything,
make you phone the doctor,
make an appointment. 
Yet, in the intervening days
I catch myself doing the exact same thing. 
Friends ask how things are going
family phone calls go by 
all with no word from me
about how sick I feel inside 
how close to my eyelids tears lurk
threatening to spill over with a roar.
It's so unfair:
I've only had you for twenty years
it's not enough. It can't be
what we're both too scared
to name out loud.

© Copyright 2022. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved.

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