Things I Cannot See (Sick)

I am sick of being sick,
Of the mental,
physical strain,

I would like to walk,
A few steps would be fine,
Without the blurred vision,
And difficulty,
Of underwater locomotion

I am sick of being sick
Of the meek excuses
I must make
For my body’s every ache

This weekly cycle
Is endless I fear
How I will function
I cannot predict
What is my purpose
In all of this,
To go through life
chronically sick?

I am sick of being sick
Of people being sick
Of me
Forgive me if I complain,
If my body cannot cooperate
With my brain,
Forgive me if I am a burden,
I know how burdens can be,
I wish for once
I could fit
In a “normal” category

I am sick of being sick
Of something I cannot see
Of ghosts haunting my mind
My emotion
My every waking motion

I can tell you
That I am trying
And swear this to be the truth
And I know you will tire of me too
I pray, be patient
Do not abandon me
I am sick of being punished
By things I cannot see.

-July 13, 2005


Written 2006

Tears have dried
Coarse salt remains
Jagged crystals
That burn
Blur and tear
At my eyes

So young
But this soul
Is so old

Filled my quota
Now I balance checks
On rain
My stare is not empty
But behind
layers of glass
— scorched salt
of my tears