Fibromyalgia is a chronic muscle disorder characterized by widespread pain.*

My mother's caramel hued skin has transitioned  
to a much darker shade. Strands of hair gracefully
fall from her scalp as feelings of
agony and helplessness replace her
jocund spirit, destroying the essence  
of who she once was. Her embodiment  
deteriorates alongside her crumbling flesh.
Veins bulge underneath her skin; knots form
below her kneecaps; misery creeps up her spine.
As stridulous moans escape my mother's lips,
I can only offer sympathy. This disease latches on to
anyone within it's reach -- not only targeting
victims but their families as well. Like a predator,
fibromyalgia seeks to control every aspect of her
being – passionately tugging the affected between
the struggle to persevere or succumb to its' insanity.

Poetry has a sensitive soul
A drive and impulse
Telling stories the way they are
Feelings of soberness
A heart felt word

Poetry has a sensitive heart
Beautifully immense
A heart of gold
Giving values to life
Adding years to life: Poetry is beautiful

Poetry has a sensitive soul
Like streams that meanders slowly
Like a river glorious: It Flows
Poetry has a sensitive heart,
A beautiful soul; A flying Angel.

Poetry is the signal
that
The soul sends into the world
Like the river, it flows into the sea,
yet the sea never gets filled.

Poetry is the fluid for the soul,
The liquid for the yearning of the Mind
That which quenches the fire
Feeding the deepest desires
Poetry is Gold in essence

Ovi Odiete©

Why are you mad at me?

When I am who you asked me to be

Mentally and emotionally

whenever you were melancholy

I was there with you

spiritually and physically

I let you become a part of me

I let you become a part of me

Are you even listening to me?

A part of me,

you know all my deepest fantasies

You’ve swam in my sea of tears

You helped me conquer my greatest fears

You showed me how to live a life with no fears

So why are you mad at me?

You created me

You lit a fire in my heart

It burned bright and burned hot

And with it you knew I’d never depart

The flame swayed and flickered

Each flicker an arm trying to reach out for you, but failing

an in each attempt it fails, but ever reaching…

In it’s attempts it blazes and it burns everything around it

Destroying the very fabric of my being

But then again, I don’t know who’s my being

You thought me how to think, and how to feel

you were the one to take my heart and on it put a seal

That nobody could it take it away

you made sure that with you was where I’d stay

Until I had given up, black roses

Because I knew we couldn’t go on

I had given up black roses because

My identity was found in you

But my purpose didn’t ensue

So I guess the reason that you’re mad at me

Is because I’m no longer who you ask of me

No longer a slave to thee, no longer your entity

So I understand your jealousy, Cause for the first time ever

I belong to me,.

Listening to the sea,
that dark looking glass
like the watchboy they ask
about the night, my brother,
the black mirror you see,
I know almost nothing about,
I heard a dirge of burning longboats
like the songs the dead sing
to put me to sleep, my death,
if I could tell you about it,
my Captain, I would but I slept
right through it, not dreaming.