Finish Line

By Alex Marchante

 

I was born having an asthma attack. They thought I was finished.

Priest gave me my Last Rites. I was surely finished.

I learned to breathe again. I wasn’t ready to be finished.

But then sadness came, it made me want to finish.

 

I held my new breath as the blade pierced my skin. I didn’t want to finish.

Depression kept swallowing my body whole. It didn’t want to finish.

Doctor told me to go get mental health. I thought it would finish.

I started the therapy but, I didn’t even finish.

 

But then, I found my calling in school. Nobody thought I could finish.

I fought through the bullying and the bloody noses. They thought they had me finished.

I moved away from the violence that took my childhood. I was finished.

Then, depression moved in with me. It certainly wasn’t finished.

 

I still fought to get through with school. I refused to not finish.

Then, romance took over my heart. My heart did not finish.

Romance was manifested in poetry and love letters. It still didn’t finish.

Romance turned into first kiss, first love. And then it finished.

 

First, Second, Third love’s the charm. They all finished.

The blade became my rebound. It never wanted to finish.

I was trapped in its clutches, I had to find a way to finish.

I cheated on depression with inspiration. It taught me how to finish.

 

Inspiration began to interpret into A’s. I couldn’t be finished.

Depression was nothing more than a speck in my rearview mirror. I thought I had it finished.

Loss and turbulence invaded my life. I thought I was finished.

 

Yet…I saw the finish line.

I saw the finish line.

 

I couldn’t accept my fate. I couldn’t be finished.

I wouldn’t accept my fate. I wouldn’t be finished.

Nights were restless and sleep was rare. Until… finished.

High school diploma. I finally finished.

 

Acceptance letter. I still had to finish.

Family and friends supporting me. They felt that I could finish.

We had slain the beast. It had finally finished.

Inspiration, ideas, hope. I couldn’t ever be finished.

 

Through all of these years,

Blood, sweat and tears,

From the brightest of times to the darkest of fears,

I pedaled and pedaled my heart’s moving gears,

 

Until all I could hear were my heart-warming cheers,

From the grin that stretched to both of my ears,

To the moments I had with all of my peers,

To the second that all of this fog clears,

 

Because for the first time in my life, I am going to finish.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. scribblers says:

    “I cheated on depression with inspiration”

    This is so beautiful. You have a way with words.

    Like

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