I hate this feeling.
I hate that you, of all people dearest to me, have brought it upon me.
I hate never knowing if we're up or down.

I feel as if you've poisoned our relationship,
And by poisoning our relationship, you've let the poison drip through my veins
I can feel it coursing through my blood.
It's a curse that in the past, I would have thought only you could lift.
Telling me that everything was going to be fine.

But now, I'm finally seeing how much bad you've done to me.
How much bad I've done to myself.

Once I thought you were the most stable position in my life,
Always there for me to lean on.
Now I realize I can only lean on myself.
That's what love does, it chokes you.
It leaves you gasping for air.
Now and then you can get high on the loss of oxygen,
But wait too long and you'll die.

Why do I give you this hold on me?
I've let you in year after year, and you say I'm in your world too.
Yet the facts point to something else.
You hide from me. You put limits on what we are and what we could be.
You lie. Good intent or ill will has yet to be determined,
however, to me, a lie is a lie. And you know that.

You act as if I'm just a side show in your life.
Something that can be there for your entertainment if the main event isn't what you hoped for.
I'm a distraction.
And I can feel it.

The one willing to do anything for you is the one you want the least.
It's a curse I've put on myself by waiting on you hand and foot for years.
Unnoticed and underappriciated.

The little recognition I get comes few and far between.
You say I'm everything you want,
but actions speak louder than words.
So far, your actions have hurt
a deep soul wrenching pain of questioning inside my heart.
"Why her and not me?
She doesn't treat him well.
She isn't there when he breaks."

But in the end, she is the one he'll run to.
Always.

Do sleepless nights yield heavy thoughts?
Or do the synapses firing prohibit silent slumber?
Neural highways at traffic jam capacity
Rush hour never ends when I retire

Electrical signals consistently skip and zip
Awake or asleep, thinking or dreaming
Mystifying visions of past, present and future
Entertain the brain while the body refreshes

A blissful recollection of pure jubilation
Transitions the mind into sweet meditation

My alarm becomes a synaptic disturbance
The ears at the receiving end of the siren
Alert, alive, living
But exhausted from the Prednisone Curse

It's needless to say that if the needle needs found then you will find it,
Knowing you need it to make a cozy blanket, no needle you can't nit.
Needles is main tool needed to make what will keep you secure and warm,
Everyone needs a comfort blanket especially if there is a predicted storm.
So You dive straight into that hay stack to find your knitting needle head first,
Making sure you come out with it, proving to all that you had lifted the curse.
Because to loose your knitting needle in a hay stack would truly be a curse,
There's nothing worst,  loosing something you need unless your senses burst.