broken lips


Do you :

Know what it is like
To be an irritation to
The one you love ?

Where even the noise,
Of your thinking
Is too much for her ?

To apologise for
naturally  kissing
her abused head; 
for she could not  tolerate
the caress of your
whispering lips ?

To be an idiot for picking up a plate
Too ear-splitting !!!!

To eat on your own

To feel the nightmare
in your guts
when you look into her
her brown eyes,
long since dulled by
soreness
and verging on despair ?

Through what you believed
long ago, 
would be busy days,
not ones you would spend
not knowing what to say
or do;
sitting
still as a mouse
in the company  of torture.


To find the backbone,
 to make the  phone call
to go to the meeting
this afternoon,
as tired as all the years
you have spent scrapping

To make the breakthrough
To get the advice
To be informed
To apply the method

Making her worse,
Much worse than fear
itself could have
had any
information on.

Galloping, hideous
Worsening
Cracking of
Your sanity

And you coping -
only by finding somewhere
to put  on your headphones
and finally
break the silence

Except she can hear;
You huddled in the corner

delinquent.

Oh yes,

..then you know Severe ME

 Greg Crowhurst Oct 28 2011




Comments

  1. This is a brilliant poem Greg but heartbreaking to read. Will email you both soon.Love Theresa xx

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

When I am 64 and other false positives : The PACE Trial.

THE STONEBIRD DEFINITION OF SEVERE ME

Paralysis, a qualitative study of people with Severe Myalgic Encephalomyelitis