I am going through some old poems and revising a few, which is as much as I can muster right now mid-relapse.
I wrote this one two years ago when I thought I was having a bad day. Perspective can be a wonderful thing and it can also be brutal as I look back today and realise that after these last few weeks it was moderate in comparison.
But there will be a good day again in my future and this poem whilst it depict the struggle of navigating body and mind through a bad day, ends with a hopeful message.
Luckily this will be the case for me. Sadly those with severe M.E may only see endless bad days in front of them until we can figure out how to cure this absolute bitch of a disease.
If this resonates please share. If it sounds like someone you know please share and talk to them about it. Ask how you can help. Listen. Empathise. Expand your understanding. Raise your awareness of the multisystemic condition known as M.E.
Love and light Kirstie 💖✨💖
Ode to a Bad Day (revised for 2021)
Life-force sapped, arms of lead
Pinned and logged, heaved from bed
Pushed by will, stubborn as stone
Levering limbs, cast in wrought iron.
Eyes that sting, fighting to shut
Thoughts form tears – “if only”, but
Try to shake out despair, the closing grief
Fetid demons of false belief.
So so tired! Blood is fire, molten
Blistered joints, cracked and swollen
Must move on, cut through, ignore
Pain shatters resolve, so stifle its roar.
Can’t I just sleep! Oh Please! Can I
Just lie deep, and kiss my blight
Caress its heart. Give up hope
But no, it holds strong, a tireless rope.
The fire, the pull, the cloy, the claw
The iron, the lead, the heavy and sore
My constant. Lies curled. And there it waits
For hope to fall, and suck out my days.
Fear – cripples, conspires, as doubt creeps in
Exiled in place, left to its whim
My life now what ifs and ever again
I’m dank, I am doomed, lifeless, blood drained.
Another Bad day. And worse still may come
Clasps at my throat, scratched and worn
Each one, a reminder, the fiercest of claims
Each scar, a note – Always. Life comes back again.
Another Good day. It’s always the dream
Limbs to join the dance, eyes that find the gleam.
Face to the sky, to see the brightest light
I breathe. I love. I live. And I’m here for the fight.