An Ode To My Chronic Pain


I’m supposed to describe all the unique ways you hurt me,
in numeric form.

But a scale of one to ten cannot even begin to convey
The fireworks in my nerves,
The beating of my bones on the sidewalk,
Or the spasms of my pulsing muscles.

You are the devil that lingers,
The kind that strikes when I least expect it
and leaves me curled in the fetal position for hours to come.

The little white angels force you to retreat
But you continue to invade.
You dwell in the recesses of my bones,
Waiting to pounce.

I want to exorcise you from my body,
drown you in holy water till you burn
the same way you make my nerves ignite.

But even I can’t deny
You are as much a part of me
as the blood in my veins,
the skin on my bones,
and the faded scars on my feet.

When they ask,
I will say
you are me
but I am not you.

When I’m not writing, you can usually find me hanging out with my cats.

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