Poem: Chronically Healing

Aug 01, 2023 by Bethel Swift, in Poetry

Chronically Healing

The things I cannot change rain down
on me like the saddest parade of confetti -
broken promises and repeated mistakes hit
hardest on my barely-holding-it-together body:
endometrial-like tissue growing out of place,
ribs endlessly slipping like tectonic plates,
nerves triggering wave after wave of stabbing,
pulling, burning, aching, dull, relentless, pain.

Brain fog fatigue draining every dream
because the body keeps the score
and my heart can't take anymore,
so now I get dizzy and nauseous
every time I stand up
to face the onslaught,
always trying but unable to keep up.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock...

“You seem so normal!”
an optimist mirror reflects.

Grateful for her perspective,
I blush with pride at my success.

To feel I am falling apart must mean
I have healed enough to be whole.