Saturday, May 28, 2016

Sick of sick.

Sick of diabetes
of worrying about food
of counting steps I've walked
of random elevated blood sugar levels
of worrying about blindness and gangrene

Sick of urinary tract infections
of the antibiotics used to treat them
of the stomach upset, bloating and diarrhea
and bleeding hemorrhoids that follow close behind
and continue for weeks and months and maybe forever

Sick of sandpaper throat
of sneezing and snotting
of harsh coughing all night
of crackling needle ear pains
and dribbling nose and eyes

Sick of trying
sick of the ten steps backwards
for every single step forwards
sick of nothing being enough
sick of the constant chipping away

Sick of loss
of family and friends
of a body that worked okay
of a mind that was briefly happy
of enthusiasm and passion

Sick of sick
and so very alone
I want a mother to hold me
and assure me that it'll be okay
but I've never had one of those






2 comments:

  1. Sorry you are feeling this way, but even so you really do have a gift with words!

    So emotive and poetic.

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  2. Sending love and if I was a bit closer would definitely give you a hug. I love your honesty and your poem.

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