I can’t leave.
I can’t pack up my skin and bones.
I can’t leave this home I’ve built.

I can’t speak.
I can’t speak any louder than this silent whisper.
I can’t speak so I’m understood.

I can’t sleep.
I can’t sleep with these thoughts and ideas.
I can’t sleep with this infinite process.

I can’t ask.
I can’t ask for you to dig up buried treasure.
I can’t ask for a gift.

But I have to ask.
So ask I will.
Do you believe in second chances? In re-dos? In extra lives? In start overs? In try again later?
I pray you do.
Because I love you.
And you better believe it.
I feel horribly rude, disgusting.
I’m breaking my morals.
Going against what I was taught as a young girl.
But I have to ask.
So ask I will.

This poem was written/submitted by Kate McCandless.