Sta.sh
The agony is still there, three weeks later.
A constant prickling-burning
Just behind the ears.
I wonder, daily, what this is, and
if it will be the death of me. And then
I wonder if I'd mind.
I cry all the time, this time of year. I cannot bear
the cold days and long nights, and these dreadful
incandescent lights, glaring into my over-sensitive eyes.
I can't bear how time slows to a trickle,
like snowmelt, dripping from a roof,
proof that even Januaries come to an end.
I must admit, I forget that every year.
This year, it's just taking longer than usual-
if these post-Christmas blues don't get me,
there's the flu making rounds again, and this headache
that never seems to end, pinching between my eyes
and reminding me that there will be
more medical bills before this is done.
The pills are addictive, so I grit my teeth,
and swallow a third Tylenol,
rubbing the soft spot behind my jaw and
praying that I won't be awake when it wears off.
I pray more these days-
that God will take away this ache, whatever the cause.
And for other things, but pain has a way of numbing it all.
My mind thinks of cancer, aneurysm, meningitis, and all manner
Of terrible things that might be the source.
I ask God for answers,
But so far, all I hear is
the pounding of my own blood, my breath,
catching when the throbbing gets worse
or a faraway tv, droning on, like a curse.
Would I know His voice if I heard it? Or think I was hallucinating-
Creating something out of nothing?
There were times, during the worst, I thought I was.
Even then, the voices were never God's.
In sickness, these cold days seem even bleaker-
My resolve growing weaker as I seek out another doctor.
And still this condition is undiagnosed,
So I dose up again, then whisper Amen
as I wait for an end
Of one sort or another.
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