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posted last year, edited last year
it’s a poem in ‘choose your own adventure’ style, read top to bottom!
For example: As we resist the future, we begin to accept the grief we shift, into light across our faces.
The poem is Obligations 2 by Layli Long Soldier.
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The Last RideHis fragile frame hoistsItself up into the saddle.Tired hands grab the reins.All but used up legs shiftTo the size of the saddle. "I'll make it." Was all he said to reassureAnyone that he could do it.His hands grip the reins,Causing the horse to look up. With the slightest shiftIn his weight, the horse moves.A wide smile on his face asHe pulls to the right. The horse rears up,His fragile frame twisting.A scream as he shifted to one side,In an instant the horse,Was without a rider. His fragile frame lay,Unmoving on the ground.A sad smile on his face,Pulling himself to stand. "I'll make it." He started to walk, thoughIn an instant the ground cameTo meet his body head on. Strong arms picked him up asA worried face met his. "Don't worry Dad, I'll get it." The fragile framed boy pushedHimself to stand on his own.A determined look on his face,His hands tightened as he walked. The horse whinnied as it pawedThe cracked ground.The boy nodded to the animal,Before he shifted his frame.He wasn't going to give in,Without a fight. "I told you, I'll make it." The horse reared up before comingAt the boy in a dead run.A scream was heard as the boy,Jumped and grabbed the saddle.He was going to make it this time. His fragile frame moved with easyThis time to sit in the saddle.The reins flying in the wind asHe grabbed at them.Soon holding them as he pulled back. The horse held no choice but to obey.In a dead run, soon to a dead stop.The fragile framed boy gave a cryIn surprise as a wide smile wasOnce more on his face. With the control once moreIn his hands, he looked backAnd waved wildly. "Come on! One more time!" Several figures kicked their horses.With whinnies the horses followedThe fragile framed boy and horse.The figures on the horses heldSad, soft smiles on their faces.They knew this was trulyThe last time. The fragile framed boyLooked back as a smileThat held no fear was there.The figures smiled with joy,But they knew better. "This will be the last time." The doctors had told them.The boy's fatherDropped to his knees asThe boy's friend couldOnly shake her head with dread. They knew it was going to beThe last time they ever sawThat smile again,That crazy wave, andThe last time they everHeard all thoseRoger Miller songs. The boy looked back to themAs he kicked his horse in the sides.The horse kicked to a gallop,Causing the figures to follow. "I'll get there!" That night as they laid outUnder the stars, he looked to her.A soft smile on his face asHe reached out and placed a strong hand,On her shoulder, soon gripping there. Her eyes cast to his with a sad look.He only shook his head as he smiled,Not wanting to see her or him upset.Soon he squeezed her shoulder,Rolling over then to sleep. "Don't worry, I'll be here when you wake." She nodded as she rolled overAnd dreamed a dreamless dream.All she was worried about wasThe fragile framed boy. Morning broke as she looked to him.He was still rolled over whereHe'd been the night before.She shook him only to findThat in the night,He'd passed away. Tears streamed down her faceAs she pulled him close.His father soon coming,And finding the despair there.Tears crawled from his eyes,As the boy was handed to him. "I told you not to worry." They had heard those words,So many times, and believed them.Now they had only wished,They had told him their own. "This was the last ride."trophy9/25/24The patter of pawsteps and the crisp crunch of leaves.The patter of two racing hearts as wind whips through fur.The iron tang of red staining the fresh snow.Delicate snowflakes drift dusting eternal stillnessTrainYou’ll be chased to your breaking point.Tie me to the tracks and just let it go.My vitals go off - they told me I’m screwed;My ribs do not feel but my hearing still works.No pleading will do as no one is here,I wish for unconsciousness; that it all were a dream.But I’m kept awoken by the sirens I hear.If this is my fate well then so be it.But my screams won’t be silent,And my death won’t be near.Move againAnd I swear I will stay,until your abdomen starts moving again.I miss when you did that.Muscles so tense and they were so alive.I don’t want you to die.A withered body;wobbly, immobile.Could your lungs move again?At least for one day.I’ll be the flesh to your bones,The diaphragm that moves.And the heart that still beats.For what used to be You.