They got me home alive

When I was in the mirror I’d reflect
On what happened in the office yesterday
And what I should do on the day ahead
To make sure my ogre’s vehemence
Goes away.

I’d toss my hair across, this way, and that –
So long as it was curly I’d want straight.
I’d wondered if he’d listen when at work
Or whether he’d ask for me to speak
A day too late.

It wasn’t like the mirror I’d seen when
I was young. Those memories – I have lost the lot.
Other than the hazy face, those thirty seconds
Just went black. A precious moment – in time –
That time forgot.

Hospitals have lost their welcome mat,
And are quick to change the patient in their bed.
When I have stayed I’ve tried so hard to walk
Back out the door. But they’ve told me;
“Wait, you’ll be needing surgery, instead.”
  
But what must it have been like for those I left at home?
Parental sacrifice means you put your loved ones first.
A sense of loving others before you love yourself
Is the essence of belief in what I call
‘The family stone’.

My scar is a reminder of my second chance to thrive.
Thank goodness it’s been given by those who
Love me as I am. They’re the ones that hold me,
That mould me into me. They’re the ones
That got me home, alive.