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Valentine's  Day,
Wife was away,
Partied all night,
Morning, head was light.
Didn't know what took place,
Until month later came face to face,
With a blond girl,
Her words crashed my world,
With my child she was pregnant,
To marry her it was important,
So I took action,
I had medical check up and DNA test,
Doctor told me to relax and smiled his best,
Test showed I could never be a father,
More tension, more bother,
I had three kids at home,
They called me daddy and my wife mum.
If not mine, whose creation?
Lorrin Feb 3
Your frightened eyes look to me for
How can I hide that I’m frightened too?
Scared I’m
Too slow
Too ******
Not good enough
To fix you
Help you
Heal you.
I try to keep moving
I try keep strong
But inside I’m terrified
“What if I’m wrong?”
“What if I hurt you?”
“What if you die?”
It’ll be all my fault
When your family cries
I want to help
I want to heal
To ease the pain and fear you feel
I’m not enough.
I’m not enough.
I’m not enough.
My heart bleeds with you
my hands will shake
My voice comes out strong
You don’t see.
You don’t see.
You don’t see.
The me that goes home
Slams her whiskey
And cries herself to sleep.
I didn’t save you.
I couldn’t help.
They tell me I’m
But they don’t see
The me in the mirror
The me that bleeds
I’m not enough.
Not enough.
Not enough.
From the bleeding heart of a paramedic.
take one giant hit
hold as long as possible
repeat as needed
elle Jan 5
it seeps
under my fingernails into skin
doused in clean! the filth is killed!
then I spit at it.


caress my brow in a palm, any warm pocket of flesh
a grandmother’s *****
the spine of a leaf
my dog’s velvet-soft triangle-shaped ear
anything that will let my grief get some rest

sorrow is heavy trash bag to haul

find me a bellhop or a sidewalk construction man
something with biceps and a hardened face. someone who can clean **** up.

these shards could maim a bystander
         why force one to bleed such an unnecessary truth
wouldn't want to wreck these shiny floors

better to keep it hid, better tighten my lips around it
I mean,
how do -you- feel under these fluorescent lights?
who is studying who?

I understand now my circus of an existence was born
in a tight space
between the exhausted description of my histories
-the official ones- and

these secrets,
the juicy stuff
encrypted in me
I've got a sickness festering in my lungs.
It throbs, aches, growing stronger
With every passing day.
The doctors gave me pills to combat it,
But I think they've laid down their swords.
Technically it's not a sickness,
It's a blood disorder.
Doesn't change the fact
That it hurts all the same.

I laughed it off
When they told me it could be lethal.
I joked about how often
The hematologist reminded me so.
But what I didnt tell anyone
Was how I cried on the way home.
My lungs throbbed in time with my sobs,
Physical pain matching the mental.
It got better,
For a while.
Now it's back
And I'm scared.

Last time I went in
They told me It Was Serious,
And then sent me home.
I'm worried it'll be the same thing
If I decide to go in again.
Then I'll waste everyone's time,
And it'll be for nothing.
I'll take my chances, thanks.

I'll fight against it,
Turn a blind eye to my pain.
I'll staunchly insist that it's diminishing,
Ignoring the deafening voice
Telling me it's all going wrong.
I'll work and laugh and fight
Until I collapse.
Then it's possibly endgame.
We'll see when that time comes.
I have blood clots in my lungs, a lot of them. Big, too. I think it's getting worse.
Kat Dec 2018
I hate
The uncertainty
Of not knowing

I hate waking up
Not knowing
If it will be a good day
Or a bad day
If I will feel calm
Or panicked
Or sad
In pain
Or not in pain
Able to deal with life's stressors
Or unable to deal with anything

I hate not knowing
Whether or not my medication will keep working
Whether or not my headaches will go away
Whether or not my dizziness will get better
Whether or not my depression will come back

And I hate
The other uncertainties too
The larger uncertainties of life
The uncertainty
Of not knowing
If I will do well in college
Go to grad school
Get a job related to my major
Keep my friendships
Start a relationship
Make my family proud
Make enough money
Move from my hometown
And many more
The uncertainty
Of not knowing
If I will learn to live a normal life
Whatever normal may be
Cause I'm still trying
To figure that out

And maybe
I am afraid of uncertainty
More than anything else
Once I learn to accept it
I won't worry so much

Because life without uncertainty
Would be no life at all
Ziayre Michaelis Dec 2018
I've got pain in my heart,
And some pain in my lungs,
But not the angsty, metaphorical kind.
I mean literal pain.
It burns, to be honest.
Or if I'm lying on my side,
I can't breathe,
But not because someone isn't around.
I actually can't breathe.
Multiple pulmonary emboli will do that.

I've got blood clots in my lungs,
And ******* does it hurt.
Okay, it only really hurts when I exert myself.
The rest of the time,
It's just a mild annoyance
Or so I tell myself.
The doctors aren't quite sure what to make of me.
Something isn't quite adding up.
I don't smoke,
I'm young,
Healthy weight,
Not pregnant (nor have ever been),
Relatively active.
I, by all logic, should not have multiple, massive, blood clots
In each lung.
(Like, at least two per lung).
I'll continue to believe it's just clots,
Something kinda serious,
And not anything worse.

I feel like I should be more worried.
After all, I've got some pretty hefty restrictions.
No lifting objects over seven pounds.
No exercise greater than a short walk
Down to the mailbox.
Stairs? Don't even try.
Running? **** no!
Standing for a prolonged time?
Ugh, so annoying.
But that's all it is-
An annoyance.

I get out of breath ridiculously easily.
I stand up, walk to the bathroom,
And suddenly have no oxygen.
It hurts too,
Can't forget about that.
It's like someone decided to play polo
With my chest
And my lungs are the ball.
Forget about anything more intense
Than a short walk.
I ain't doing it!
Good thing my social life
Was non-existent to begin with.

We'll see next week
Just how serious this is.
The hospital doctors seem to think it's urgent,
While my normal doctor isn't too concerned.
I guess I'll see on Friday
When I visit the Blood Specialist.
Until then, I'm a breathless glass doll.
**** me now.
Don't get multiple, large pulmonary emboli in each lung. 0/10, would not recommend.
Kat Dec 2018
Maybe it was just a dream
I wake from nightmares
Of appointments, of arguments,
Of doctors, of dentists,
Of PT, of pain
But when I open my eyes I realize
None of it was real
And relief seeps through every
Pore of my skin
Washes over my body
Like the first summer rain
It felt so real
But it wasn't real
Just a dream
And I am safe

Maybe it was just a dream
Opening my eyes to frantic faces
Going to school the next day
Cause I thought I was ok
Weeks of x-rays and stories to explain
Weeks of eating food through a straw
Weeks of hardly talking at all
Months of pretending I was all right
When every new symptom
Showed I was not
Followed by
Months of not knowing what was wrong
Could be a concussion, could be anxiety,
Could be stress or a vitamin deficiency
Months of anxiety
I feel like it's severe
Months of pills and uncertainty and fear
Every day
Now dictated by worry
How much should I do?
Can I exercise again?
Why does my head still hurt?
Why why why why WHY
A never-ending cycle
While life is passing me by

But then I realize
It wasn't just a dream
The appointments, the arguments,
The doctors, the dentists,
The PT, the pain
It is all real
And the relief I feel
Just as quickly abates
Replaced by a terror
I cannot quell
As worries flood into
My wandering mind
Just another day
I have to get through
It is never just a dream
Deeper than the captivating shape it has,
Lies a greater purpose it stands for.
So vast and strong,
It rotates laterally
and extends at your will.

It stands strong, defying gravity
cushioning you for your comfort
and holding your pelvis still.

So appreciate it for more than it's curves;
stand tall and thank your behind
when you bend.

For it is greater than
it seems.
Thinking Doc Nov 2018
I'll wait for her calls in between shifts at work,
Or in between chapters of textbooks.

I'll wait for her voice to greet me through the static,
Having traveled five thousand kilometres.

It'll be love, it will be quiet,
and every time I see her on the limited rectangle of my screen,
Distance is an illusion.

In time, I will meet her, a roaring aeroplane will tear across the sky,
Over seas and oceans, mountains and wars,
and upon landing, in a timezone far away,
past the corridors and waiting rooms,
amidst throngs of waiting people,
I'll see her and it will be better than a thousand dreams.
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