Fibromyalgia and Me
Nothing More
I would appear
To be nothing more
Than a list
Of ailments
Existing
In frown lines
Yearning for slumber
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A Quiet Moment
I’m at work this week after a week off last week, and it’s hard going! So I’m just going to post some lovely soothing wild flowers, and have a nice quiet moment 🙂
hole
I feel the darkness
behind my eyes
a black hole of weariness
sucking me dry
shell
this pain takes me from myself
a bitter frozen shell
eaten with fatigue
angry with the humdrum
endlessness of it all
weary of weariness
forgetting joy
lost words
lost words
search
of futility
lost words
stay lost
oh to pour out my soul
but wordless I wait
abandon
a hopeless task
seek instead
sleep
woodlouse
I am what I am
and what I am right now
is barely functional
woken by woodlouse
dive-bombing
on my headÂ
shocked into
wide-awake-ness
I have stumbled through the day
eyes dry and sore
dragging my aching limbÂ
but at least it was just a woodlouse
and not the sky falling in
as the roof flew off in the galesÂ
and the sodden plaster splattered my face
drenching my pillowÂ
at least it was not that
(though, heart racing, I felt it was)
woodlice feel quite damp
when landing on your skin
I should like to be a woodlouse
quietly pottering
no worries
or concerns
and if alarmedÂ
I’d curl up in a ball
quite safe
but
not falling
not falling
on anyone
that is not my wish
21st October 2014, non-fiction
sleep-lack
consistently weary
persistently dreary
walking in a grey, drab world
muffled and gruffled
I continue snappily
less than happily
if I could clear this sleep-lack
if I could only find the knack
to sleep all night
without a break
without a wake
to shift my aches and pains
perhaps I’d get
my focus back
if I could find
the sleep I lack
safe
nestled
against your chest
lulled by your steady heartbeat
safe
loop
these are the doubtful days
the self-critical days
the days where all is looked at
through magnifying lenses
and found wanting
where every word and action
is analysed and over-analysed
and I’m so busy analysing
that more words and actions
slip out of me unbidden
snippy, snappy, grumpy-face
and the loop repeats
and still you say you love me
disconnected
I am here
but not here
unfocused
in this world
full of people
and noise
I am here
but not here
bubble-wrapped
among crowds
separate
alone
I am here
but not here
a puppet
pretending
to be human
yet vacant
grump-graph
my mood
is inversely proportional
to the amount
of time
I’ve spent awake
when I should
have been asleep
I’m tempted to draw a graph
though it’s unnecessary
no maths or science
are really required
just listen
to my voice
turned snappy and short
I am grumpiness
personified
so I try
to be nice
and actually
by trying to be nice
I actually get nicer
and in the end
I shake off the grumps
and the line
on my graph
goes all wonky
and proves me wrong
