But I'm Not Bitter
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a dark and dreary day ( I know its Tripe but today it is true )

rain makes me sour and truly an old crone
My skin is too tight and my bones are not nimble but stiff and useless
Stairs are insurmountable and the phone seems too far away for the effort
I no longer try to be pleasant and am left alone
but for my furry mob who can care less my bad mood
my desk chair is surrounded now with hot water bottles
electrical pads and nuke em packs and of course pill bottles
the detritus of pain

It is now a companion old and well known to me
I am told ever "Its age my Dear, Just live with it
I am told "It's all in your mind there's no pain at all"
I am told :Push through it and endure don't acknowledge it ignore it"

When will it leave ? at death ? What a thought to have to drag it with me at the end.

I curse his name
His Family
His Heritage
His Intellect
His Temper

His one action one blow in fury his one tantrum ...

And the sentence is life ...for me

I wonder ..If I saw him could I strike back?

I know there is no forgiveness no saint like pity or absolution

Every time I hit the ground in a seizure he has hit me again
Everyday I cannot climb the stairs in my own home He has thrown me once again through the window and I fall the 6 floors again

Stop holding on to it you'll never get any better ... And I try ..I really do ...

Then the seizures come or I cannot do a simple household task

or I must once more tell a friend I cannot meet them for tea (a selfish luxury)

You know I bet he has not thought of me in years ..but his actions govern what I can do every day of my Life

But I am not Bitter

Solita -2006



Author's Location: Toronto, Ontario