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Janyce Whiteside Poem
The day I heard I had HIV
The letter from the health department read like this in so many words: “Your lifestyle has caught up with you and you have been a naughty girl. You have contracted something possibly, but we wanna make sure it?s positively HIV.”
Now, it didn't mention those 4 capital letters (AIDS), knowing that was the only test I took, didn?t make it better. So I called the number and made the appointment, now reflecting on all the days of my enjoyment, considering I am only 23, with plenty of life ahead of me, and yes I have BIG dreams.”
Two days from now comes the answer to “it”, do I or do I not have is the question, I reminisce on all the days I was promiscuous and WOW, I hadn?t realized how reckless I had been not listening to the words of the wise.
The day has come and in the office I begin to pray “Dear God, please forgive my sins I didn?t know what I was doing.” My heart begins the beat of fear; the butterflies have come out of their cocoons, floating in my belly as I enter the room.
The counselor comes in with her paper and pen, I try to see her facial expression, but there is none. “Well young lady your test came back positive, so according to the CDC that means you have HIV, but don?t give up hope you can still live your life, just not as carefree as you may wanna be.”
She broke everything down and gave me some literature to read. My next steps were to see a doctor for more testing and locate the one who infected me, a task I focus on fearfully.
I get out my old black books and cry as I sit on my bed, here I am 23, HIV positive and scared. WHY! I scream this is just a dream, but the pinch didn?t wake me, just bruised me. I?m dying because my ignorance has overcome me.
After 2 weeks of calls and threats on my head, the clinic calls I thought to check on my progress, only to find out my paperwork was mis-interpreted and my test was really negative. She called to apologize for the mistake, but I was already on my knees thanking God for his mercy and grace, and another chance; I realized then to become abstinent because having unprotected sex is a deadly game to play.
Copyright © Janyce Whiteside | Year Posted 2013
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Janyce Whiteside Poem
This poem is all about?
2012
Wanted to write a poem about injustice, a poem on being disgusted, wanted to write a poem about struggles; struggling to write a poem.
Need people to hear my cries, my plea; snap their fingers for me, understand my pain because you feel it as well. Want people to know I’m an activist with poetic movement, advocate for what- this poem is all about.
Wanting to write a poem; needed to write but blocked. This poem doesn’t have to rhyme, doesn’t need to express anything specific; just words coming together forming a sentence. Wanted to write a poem about existence, my living conditions, how this man hurt my heart, being unemployed, how to survive in these streets, just wanted to write, but this poem is all about? If you’ve been paying attention you’ll know what this poem is all about.
Writing a poem all about this poem because this poem is all about every poem poets write about. Words that must intrigue make you cry, or spit blows that make you bob & weave in your seat because yeah, that’s your secret. This poem is all about?
Bravery to share your soul, remaining fearless while nervous in front of unknowns, at times someone gets offended, because this poem is all about a memorable performance, Def poetry type recognition, yeah this poem is all about.
Having someone walk up to me and say, “Damn that poem was deep”, needed to hear that speech, wanted to write a poem, so this poem is about? Open mic nights, a crowd of on lookers a stage and me standing in front of you reciting what this poem was all about.
Copyright © Janyce Whiteside | Year Posted 2013
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Janyce Whiteside Poem
Looking for it
Checked the cabinet under the sink, the drawer with miscellaneous tools; even checked the hutch at the bottom of the stove/ it wasn’t in the kitchen. Checked behind the couch in the living room, entertainment cabinet thought maybe if I vacuumed/ it may get caught up in the suction not sucked up/ looked in the book case behind books/dusted off the frame that holds our picture/Still looking for it.
Can’t believe the carelessness/ How in the hell did I lose it? /Still looking for it.
The dining room was no help at all/ the table and chairs can’t hide much/ but I did look under the rug just to see if maybe just maybe it rolled under there/ Why—can’t—I find it? / If I have to tear this house down, I’m going to find it because it means so much to us/ Apologies baby/ caught in a moment and lost it/ still looking for it.
Can’t believe the carelessness/How in the hell did I lose it? / Still looking for it.
The guest room was dusty/ I gotta find it/ checked under the bed in the closet/lifted the bottom of the curtains/ I gotta find it/You’ll be home soon so I have to find it/How do you misplace something so rare special & beautiful?/ how do you lose something so valuable?/
Checked the bathrooms/looked in the toilet/ Lord I hope I didn’t flush it/ looked behind the shower curtain/ medicine cabinet even/ where—Is— it? /went in our bedroom sat on the bed/ let me re-group here/ take a breath/ inhale/ exhale/ Still looking for it/ our bedroom is filled with you’s and me’s components of our lives intertwined/ so many memories/this house reeks of we/ each and every room/ a part of us is resumed/like now as your key turns the lock to our home/ I smile/that moment it clicked/ “it” was never flushed, lost, or misplaced/ you were just gone.
Copyright © Janyce Whiteside | Year Posted 2013
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