Alone in Holy Places

They didn’t care that I was broken, hurting, ashamed;
as long as I was clean, gritting my teeth, and “happy,”
I could stay.

They didn’t care that I was violated, traumatized, sleepless;
as long as I memorized my verses, fit into their mold,
I could stay.

If I strayed off track, took a few too many pills to sleep, or tried too hard to forget,
I was exiled.

It didn’t matter that they could see I was already alone, that I was already dying, that I was already halfway out the door;
they never tried to reel me back in, love me through my pain, or beg me to stay alive just another day,

Instead, they cut the last cord,
…and then wondered why I drifted so far away.