Purpose – much coveted, despair-driven – has returned. Energy – motivation to proceed – building. Willingness – once vibrant, now constrained – resists. Chasms –
Category: ME/ CFS
Dis-abled Self
A wounded creature, I circle the pack; A laggard seeking inroads, missing cues; A social wanna be without the smack – This fogged state a
Genetics
I search for father in this pain, recall limbs wrapped, liniment-lathered, how he cried out relief beyond reach judged his suffering as emotional – a
Good Afternoon?
Rumi’s dawn breezes – once sage advice – now taunt me. I am loathe to greet the day, not that I despise its arrival, rather
Aftermath
The sibilant hiss of fridge slays this silence – I am numb, hummed, lulled by sleepiness – slippery echoes of weekend’s voices linger, ring in
Penance
The idealist is annoyed, cannot forgive these flaws – how delight can melt into forgetfulness, exertion transform into immobility, the insistence that I have no
