"fibro" poems
Why go back
when you can move forward?
I face this question
each day I breathe.
It's not always so easy
to answer.
P
T
S
D
Post
Traumatic
Stress
Disorder
Keeps me looking back
to my past
behind my shoulder.
P
T
S
D
Post
Traumatic
Stress
Disorder
Usually associated
with our war heroes.
The ones who can't leave
the battlefield behind.
I am not one of them.
I am just
an anxious
a depressed
in pain
person.
But I can't help
that I have it.
P
T
S
D
Post
Traumatic
Stress
Disorder
My battlefield
was the school,
the classrooms,
the playground.
The babysitter,
the dark closets,
the dark rooms,
the basement.
P
T
S
D
Post
Traumatic
Stress
Disorder
The anxiety
the migraines
the depression
the fibro
no sleep.
All lead back
to square one.
The abuse
by my peers
by my teachers
by my babysitter.
P
T
S
D
Post
Traumatic
Stress
Disorder
Four easy letters
Four simple words
Lifetime in pain
from those simple things
from those not so simple things.
P
T
S
D
Post
Traumatic
Stress
Disorder.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
Sometimes I wonder, how I will make it alone,
When all those in my life have refused to see what I have always shown?
The fact that I am ill, yes indeed it is true,
A mental illness chains me, physical illnesses too.
Depression has been a friend, for as long as I know,
Panic and anxiety, do you even need to be told?
Am I paranoid? Or is that what you want me to think?
In the next minute, I am dissociated, or cannot think.
I am over here and over there,
"Hello!" or "Goodbye",
What is seriously wrong with my mind?
Friends, they stay a distance, and I don't need them anyways,
Family? Forget it...
I lie and I lie.
I pretend that I feel nothing,
Nothing touches me,
But truth be told I am terrfied,
My heart, as if, bleeds.
Perhaps you've heard of Fibro,
Or IBS as well,
Maybe you know Chronic pain,
And a fatigue like hell.
Maybe your are familar with being in constant pain,
Maybe you know all the pills, over and over again.
"How can it be hard to get out of bed?"
"How hard can it be to ignore what's in your head?"
You won't understand, even though I've tried,
No I'm not special, especially when I'm chained to a bed.
I've been told I am older now, "Hurry up and get a job",
"You will be nothing when you get started and move on."
"Can't you just stop whining? Grow up and live life?
Can you just do something rather than sleeping and wasting time?"
"You worry about this, you cry about that, you want this but don't even try to relax."
"You are doing nothing but sitting around,
So what if you are sick? We all are, all year round."
I am the lazy, the black sheep the failure,
The worthless, dissapointment, the immature.
"I am the would have been, could have been, should have been, never was and never ever will be",
Did I really just quote a song? Indeed, I've felt what they really mean.
I am weak or stubborn, Ms. "why" and "Okay but how come?"
Believe me, there is no look or answer I've been given, that I have not sawn.
There is help out there, there are programs and places to go,
But who would want to love someone who struggles to get up and go?
Who may be sick for the rest of their lives,
Who doesn't even feel worthy of time?
People do what they have to, to go off and survive,
But the next time you want to go and ridicule someone,
Please know, they try...
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 4:31 AM UTC
Passing through the night only to greet
the morning in a purple haze.
The brain is floating inside my head as
the fog resides leaving me in a daze.
The weight of an anvil holds me down
because my strength has gone away.
Adventures that's going on outside have
no baring's, so I stay in bed all day.
The pins beneath my skin get worst as
they dig deeper with every sting.
I want to fly away sometimes but fate
leaves me without my wings.
Hidden from the world, I cover myself
with depression and grief.
Sad, distraught and more worrying takes
the place of unfound relief.
Memory loss comes frequent but it won't
let me forget about the pain.
Driving me crazier and crazier when the
weather decides to change to rain.
Trapped inside a forest without roads
or clear paths to lead me out.
Forced to live in a world without a cure
that doctors can't seem to figure out.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
the waters edge
is where i stand
feet sinking slowly
in the golden sand
water is ice in a
white lace hand
salty tears from
a far off land
sun is bright
and warm is air
breeze is light
just ruffling hair
off in deeper places
dolphins play and
win races against
the curling waves
surfers sit awaiting
water graces before
leaping walking on
surf and slimline pieces
of wood and fibro foam
artfully worked into boards
of about three paces
whales swim along
the water roads
occasionally
showing age old faces
and fins and tails
in the dance of ages
birds fly high
on wind planes
dipping and diving
in order to gain
greater speed
better angles
to spear down into
water tangles
coming up with
dinner or not
spreading wings
again seeking the aloft
at waters edge
where i stand
mountians have been
broken down into sand
horizons quiver in the sun
somewhere day is starting
somewhere day is done
and still the waves seek the shore
and still the water always wants more
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 8:48 PM UTC