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Illness is slow In the morning it is the difficulty I find in waking—Illness is slow by ~margizmo
And how my blurry vision lasts so much longer than it did
Yesterday, or last year.
In the afternoon it is the heat in my face
And at night it is the numbness in my fingers and toes. They tingle now—
ice pricks against my nails and the whorls of my finger-pads.
I wake in the pre-dawn hours
And my clammy hands shake and shudder
while I breathe in soft sobs
and tear at plastic pills with my teeth.
until they lie ripped to shreds
And still I am not fixed.
On the third day it is the prick of pain
And the smooth separation of flesh by metal.
Sometimes I imagine the muscle
Sta.sh
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Jay P.
peeace
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love.... ELLOIsazdfTTTT%TTTTRT