I always forget
how bad it can get.
Then it roars it’s ugly head,
And I’m awake but stuck to my bed

my limbs feel like they’re made of lead
this pain, this pressure, constricts my head
it wakes me up,
but for a while it fled
in school-aged dreams
where some phrase a girl said
is useless but on repeat, inside my head
over and over,
your bones are made of bread

I crack my back
my knuckles and toes
how long will I stay here
nobody knows

don’t worry about me
I have big dreams and wishes!
its either a long, arduous bath
or doing a sink full of dishes

I’ve swallowed my medicine
drank all the water in the bottle
the pills are crawling down my throat
like a large elderly fellow, I begin the waddle
down the hall to fill the bottle
with more water I’ll need to drink
my wrist is shaking I’m so stupidly weak

I get angry at these limp noodle limbs
that seem to break at the slightest bend

Made it back to bed
where Monty sleeps because he knows
We won’t be playing outside today
I adjust the pillows then away I will go

But first I lean my head against his
and feel his velvety ears
And he stretches all four paws out stiff
I whisper I’m sorry but I don’t think he hears

He seems happy when he’s asleep
or fetching or resting or taking a swim
And never does the boy feel guilty
for a day spent alive, up to the end.

I’m learning from a dog
from the pain and redundancy
I’m finding surrender and grace
In and between my glass dreams abundantly

What would Monty do?
He would live anyway
sometimes life is like this
Every beginning the test of a day
For now the test is listening well
What does this pain have to say?
Maybe if I truly hear it
I’ll awaken and poof
It will go away

Mostly my prayer
Is it’s not all for nothing
Lying in bed all day
the ceiling whispers it’s something
bigger than you, and me, and podcasts and Netflix
something untouchable, but true, that will make Per Finks head fixed

I’m falling asleep
Good night
dream sweet