disability · ME/ CFS · mental-health · poetry · writing

The Same, But Broken

Fragility blindsides –
I am woman.
Strong.

Courageous, some say –
a sentiment beyond my reach
having not chosen this state.

Fragility is pervasive –
body reduced to miniscule fibers,
stretched, torn, bordering
on broken.

Overwhelmed, mind obsesses –
will neither organize
nor let go…

If only I could let go…

I am weeping
and not

Weeping from frustration –
immediate impossibility –

Unwilling to weep for totality of loss –
it is beyond me.

Illness is regarded
with disgust,
indifference,
repulsion

There is no equality for the disabled

And, yet…

Rawness –
stripped of busy-ness –
renders me as any other

A soul yearning for a meaningful existence.

Maybe illness is the great equalizer.

(The Same, But Broken was first written in December of 2014, when I suffered from severe Myalgic Encephalomyelitis.  It is revised here.)

health · life · ME/ CFS · poetry

Intuition

The body has a voice –
not silent, nor harsh –
it is a knowing.

When ego drives hard –
screaming ambition
demanding to be heard –

Block it out!

Let your body speak –
waves of understanding,
gut feelings, truth.

Logic has no place here –
book learning seldom serves
the needs of the soul –

Set it aside.

Listen to your body –
that pounding in the chest,
that sudden surge of vertigo.

Intuition is cellular –
ancient, ancestral instinct;
trust the voice within.

(I originally wrote this in October of 2014, while contemplating how I let myself become so ill.  Admittedly, I had for years ignored my body’s signals.  Be well all.)

 

 

adversity · disability · dreams · health · poetry · recovery

Isolation’s Hold

Disability covets isolation, this
stripped-back, box-like state.

Rustic serenity, with breathing
room would be preferable, but

nostalgia creeps in and lack of
self-worth leaves the door open

to unwanted visitors, phantoms
of former torments, nondescript

invaders targeting the lonely,
misconstruing lack of health

for neediness, preying on weak-
hearted, presuming incapability.

I am unwell, not unwanted, effort
to protest ignored, I grow wary of

fellow travelers, am vandalized by
nightly attacks, attempt to reach

out, aim for strength, logic, clarity,
dial-up past abuse instead, cannot

fathom the purpose of unsolicited
persecution, grasping at isolation.