What you see is the hour when I’m functional
Going to the store
Driving a car
Getting lunch
What you see are the moments that I push though
And pretend
Ad know I’ll pay for it later.
What you don’t see is that later
The before and the after and all the other hours
Of the day and night
When I’m laying still as a stone
Unable to do more than shift around in bed
Unable to do more than wait as the days creep by.
What you don’t see is the price I pay for that trip to the store
For those extra 10 minutes on my feet
For those few moments of feigned normality.
We might get lunch together
On the same day that I spend the whole evening and night
In the ER.
And you would never know
Because I seem so normal.
You can’t see it
But I do
It’s not just that I’ll pay for it later
I’m paying for it now too.
Sitting and standing and moving
And worst of all bending
Every single moment
Is spinning spinning spinning
Until I lose my self so deep
In fogged mind and fogged body that
That I catch my fingers in the scissors
And it takes so long to process
That by the time it does
I’ve already finished cutting
That’s how far gone I am.
How do I explain the cost of every moment?
The calculation behind my stance during every conversation
The need to cut them off in order to sit down
Or lay down
Because to stand any longer is more than my body can bare.
How do I explain that no I wasn’t ok during our trip out
Or whatever it was we did today
I was just holding it together
Because I can do that
For a few hours
And pay later
And I do
Pay
Comments