I’m Not Sorry – A Poem

“I’m so sorry,”

These are the words

I always hear.

“Poor you,”

Each time I hear these words,

it’s like I’m having to fight

all over again.

“You must hate your life.”

I didn’t always have a positive outlook,

 wasn’t always filled with sparkles and rainbows.

“Why does it always happen to the good people?”

That came with time,

years that have felt like seconds.

and minutes that have felt like years.

“At least you get to collect disability.”

People tell me that,

if they were in my position,

they would rage against the unfairness of it all.

“You’re so lucky to find someone to love you as you are.”

The fact is,

I spent a few months lost within rage and sorrow

until I didn’t know who I was anymore.

“So, are you like, retarded?”

I made a choice for myself,

and I make that choice again every single day.

“But you’re on drugs, right? So, you’re cured?”

When I hear those words,

I want to scream at the person who said them,

tell them that I was sorry, but I’m not now.

“You must be angry knowing that your life is over.”

Every time, I take a deep breath

and remind myself of how far

I’ve come.