In a silent scream
against night walls I lie,
in a bed where hours drag
and sadness enters.

No one can hear me.
No one can help,
as my toucher is embedded in sheets
of energies orchestrated by higher self
from another lifetime.

Bugs crawl engulfing my body
and NOTHING can change it
until my healing is done.

NOT changing of the sheets,
bringing in the bug brigade spray,
or even a shower in lights dim,
helps.

The itching is unbearable sometimes,
as I twist and turn
in corridors of a restless dream
half a wake.
Sometimes my body feels like hot coals
are thrown on me.
Other times I release a thunderous tear
as
guiding hand I try and scratch.

Bearing it I do as I know it has a higher purpose
and when it gets too difficult I take
two pills above the normal.

Bearing it I do,
hoping my healing process will end soon
to my spirits specifications.

My nightmare only comes at night,
and by morning all bites and markings
are gone
as prayer goes out
in hope I am done.

Done as another sun rises,
and I move in a light-worker fasion
with visions to scribe.
Scribe, as sun rises on but another day
that hold my gratitude.