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Don’t You Dare Stay, Don’t You Dare Leave

I didn’t ask you to come. You came anyway-- like sympathy could scrub the blood off my breath. Don’t you see? My grief is mine. You’re holding tissues like they matter. You’re speaking like you understand. You don’t. Not the burn. Not the echo. Let me fall. Let me break and crawl through it-- I need the splinters to feel like proof that I was touched at all. And yet, if you leave now I will hate you more than I already hate everything else.

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Victor Buhagiar

Date: 5/22/2025 1:41:00 AM

I don't believe I ever read any poem of yours, I have very little time for poetry since I'm old and live alone. Your poem reminds me of a contest I entered Abandoned. Still I love the way you tackled a very common situation. Well done.

Alesia Leach
Date: 5/23/2025 4:45:00 PM

Victor, thank you for taking the time--your words mean a lot, especially knowing you rarely read poetry these days. I’m honored this piece echoed something familiar for you. That sense of being caught between needing and pushing away…it’s a hard one to name. I’m grateful you felt it here.

Justin Bordner

Date: 5/18/2025 7:27:00 PM

Continued...I respect how you need to own your pain Poetess, and I understand, and love the natural vicissitudes of your heart's voice. "Like sympathy could scrub the blood off my breath..." unabashedly real. This is a powerful poem Alesia...Justin

Alesia Leach
Date: 5/23/2025 4:31:00 PM

Justin, your words crack open something sacred--thank you for honoring the ache with such clarity and grace. That heartbeat from the touch of God--yes, it’s what grief sometimes conceals but never erases. I think this poem was my way of screaming for it while not daring to hope. You heard it anyway.

Justin Bordner

Date: 5/18/2025 7:18:00 PM

Your heart is soo vehement for it's deserving voice, it doesn't want to die, to cry, your heart needs to live beyond the waste of Why...you know there is a love that exists just for you, but sometimes it's soo hard to recognize as real, like a heartbeat that echoes from the touch of God...J.A.B.

Paige Hind

Date: 5/18/2025 2:59:00 PM

"Let me break and crawl through it—" that seems to fit with your title, that's bleeding...

Alesia Leach
Date: 5/23/2025 4:24:00 PM

Exactly--that line bled out of the title, didn’t it? I wanted it to sting, to mirror that jagged edge of needing and resenting all at once. Thank you for stepping into the ache with me.