Poetry: “my friends are asleep and i can’t get up off the floor” by Trinity Dearborn
my friends are asleep and i can’t get up off the floor
i make it to the kitchen and sit down
because standing becomes too much
my friends were upstairs
i call for help
a mom helps me up and makes me a cheesy biscuit
i oftentimes feel like a burden
my conditions are still new
i’ve never had to be less independent before
i am still getting used to it
after
not eating at regular times
not sleeping at regular times
(but who does at a sleepover?)
i am dizzy and lightheaded still half in a dream
sunlight waking me up partly aware i need to eat
to become a human being again
still trying to figure out
how to make my hands work again
my anxiety about asking for help
is amplified by a boy who thought
i was lying to get his fucking attention
as if i am not already weighed down by the idea of needing assistance
my friends have been nothing but perfect
yet i am still afraid to ask for their hands
i’m getting better at it
they are wonderful and oh so loving
i have to remember
they will not lean in to bite me as they help me up