Raging with stinging pain, what’s it like you ask?
I alone can tell you.
The point of a sword made from hot steel
forged in Hell’s womb stabbing in your spine.
Turning and turning collecting your nerves along the blade like a child with a fork of noodles to consume.
This child being the disease I carry within my
very bones that are weary and worn from battle.
Hospital after hospital, the journey to keep the
life in my eyes present and the hope in my heart anew is getting hard to bare.
What hope is there? What desire for normalization is beating in my soul for confirmation?
Only God knows my destiny and my true inner warrior.
It seems to me that the only attention from my peers is pity and sorrow.
Know me.
Know me not from my illness and know me for
being the trooper in an army of chronic soldiers.
The disease shall not take control over me, but I will rise above with faith running down my cheek.
Each tear shall be the healing of my very soul,
yet not a tear of defeat will drag me into the cold abyss.
As I travel the long road to recovery, I reach a door rusted shut.
Will I ever get to open this door,
to continue further near the gold gate of healing?
Push, pull, push, I lay my weight on the door.
The door cracks open as the rust falls to the ground
and a bright light is shone through the small fracture.
All my energy and strength have gone in hasten and I sit against the door for a rest.
“Soon,” I say out of a burning whisper,
“Soon I shall have my relief and join the blessed few
in a jollification of our purple ribbons burning in the bonfire.
The pain will go, the tension will ease, and I…I will become comfortably numb.
I fall fatigued and I start to sing.
“Oh, my sins are all shattered and layed on my side
The wind calls my nameBut I take all my stride,
The Lord hath no mercy and no love for me
And yet he has chosen the storm on my sea.”
I sigh and look up at the door to see a weary eye in view. I am startled.I jump and away from the door I ask incredulity, “Who are you?”
A mouth appears in view of the gape and the man says, “I am, I am.”
I am confused and ask him if he can open the door, he gives me a slight grin and chuckles.
“Oh, my dear girl, you must be the one to open the door, for you are the only one who bare the key,” he says with remorse.
“What key? I do not know of such key, I only bare my shame and my illnesses, sir.”
“Do you have faith in God young girl?” He asks.
“Well, not all the time, I believe he’s abandoned me by giving me this Hell I’m living.”
He smiles and all of a sudden disappears.
“Wait!” I run towards the door and it closes shut.
I run my fingers down the old wood splintering in my skin as tears fill my eyes.
Why?
I lay against the door, but as I do this, “Wham!!”
I bust through into a heaven so bright and so wonderful, pain had no meaning.