Disgusting

There is something sick inside me, it is

Easier to be ill

I know nothing so well as disease, I am

Better at being sick than any facet of humanity

I would otherwise display.

Fear blossoms, whispers inability

I know better the honeyed pity, the bleeding sympathy that flows

I can manage the gratitude they exude

That their lot has not fallen as mine;

I am better at belonging in the hospital bed

Than any talent I can find

Something in me longs for that familiarity

Take me back where I understand and am understood

The beeps and monitors I speak, the veins and lines that intersect at a nurse’s hand

It is far more ordered than this chaotic land

I have more to offer in the crisp-white room than in this panicked time;

I can offer mystery; blood and antibodies and metabolic panels that defy reason

I hold curiosity; extra collagen and misery

I know not where else to run when

I

Bleed

But

Someone wants my uncertain mess; this diseased, distressed, and homeless wreck

A God so clean, with want of me? How delightfully wrong it seems

But… it is there I surely belong.

stuck

There is a tension in waiting

for a blow that never comes;

Your body, crumbled to posturing

perched upon your splintered throne.

 

There are eyes tired of searching,

yet unable to close for rest;

There are lungs squeezed shallow from filtering

the quietest possible breaths.

 

There is loss multiplied by loss

in the fight to never be knocked down again;

There are waves that will never drown you, yet

you cannot ever risk submerging for a swim.

 

There is knowledge of inky black

which no one can pretend not to see;

There are stains of morbid red

where your heart rips open (every other beat.)

 

There is an exquisite agony

in never feeling home;

It does damage, it curries questions

that should never be asked.

 

You cannot learn to thrive and love

when your alertness

your caution

your awareness

when your panic will never relax

Panic

I am told these endless tales

Myths and legends, of how I prevail

Tell me where then, this strength you cite-

has gone, and why I feel so frail?

At any moment my blood will stop

It will back into my skull and pop

Dripping down each empty socket

Breaking my rib cage and pooling my pockets

Back the way it was before

The days I was dying, the dreams I abhor

The memories of childhood stitched up and fixed

A traumatic memory, I endless resist

WHY

CAN’T

I

JUST

REST

Liability

The tiniest sliver is far too dark; a piece of my heart

Too sharp, too sharp

I cannot believe it, the words are a lie

Who would want someone as broken and dangerous as I?

Please let go now before I trust too much

Please walk away before I need you and you run

I find it hard to even want myself

So how could someone else,

someone else?

TEPT

i know i am still held back by the trastorno,

unlikely to perceive anything

as it truly exists;

i know because simple words

leap out at me, and they threaten

with their hisses and hooks, promising

desastre with every syllable;

the drumbeats of the enfermedad within my chest

they just might

succeed

at shattering my 454564

45

 

4

eevreyhthing

The hurting

I have never lived a life not knowing constant pain

I have never seen the stars without an icy, driving rain

What would it be to have shoulders unbowed by heavy strain?

How do you function free from such limiting constraint?

Who would I be untainted, unbroken by this fate

How would I stand – the taller for the freedom from this weight?

WHO WOULD I BE WITHOUT THIS CURSE THAT BUILDS INSIDE MY BRAIN

the poison that is in my bones, my body – so betrayed

Chronic pain has made me stronger, made me weaker, but a soldier

I don’t know who I’d be or what the world would mean

I can’t believe you exist, you free from this red agony

It sounds like a fairytale, some senseless make-believe

That anyone could live and breathe without an omnipresent ache

What kind of life is that?

Indulgent, a dreamland, utterly fake

Who could possibly spend all day without hiding screams inside their face?

The blades that stalk my body have slipped into my mind

Everything is a threat, I am ready for death at any time

I cannot remember a day where I relaxed or ceased to hide

I have always been waiting, waiting for the worst, knowing the toxins will not subside…

Knowing my destiny is this agonizing life.

Trying to ignore the shrieking Worst inside my mind.

I am tired now, it has been decades of fight

I don’t know who I am except the girl hurting inside

The outside, beside, every shade of me has died

A thousand times I’ve waited for my grinning demise

I simply don’t know anymore what hope could possibly be

My faith has yet to desert me, at least I know that I am free

But my battle has not paused for a single momentary rest

I’ve been screaming, bathed in blood, since I drew my first breath

I’ve never existed without constant stress, the pressure of my life a test

How can I pass? What do I say? When will this nightmare fade?

Will a night ever start without my muscles burning flame?

Who am I if not agony, if not the girl who waits

to be saved?

Refusing to be the one who breaks because I’ve always been the broken one and I wish i could refuse this face?

I do not know what life would be without my thorns, these pains

I’ve never taken a breath that wasn’t shadowed by a cost. It’s inconceivable to me

That so many

Breathe for free.