Hey fooligans, sorry I've been missing for so long. I'm back! I wrote you a poem. It's called 'Stuck Inside A Whale'
People say that chronic pain sucks –
Like air going into a vacuum, like soda up your straw.
And it does. It does suck. I get it.
It’s a frustrating thing when your body refuses to listen,
Like being on a vast ocean with no land in sight,
And you can’t find the oars.
And even if you could find the oars, it’s not like it’d make a difference because
Your body doesn’t listen to you anymore.
Your arms won’t pick them up.
You’re stuck in the middle of sea,
And all you can see is blue water,
There is a certain hopelessness about pain.
It swallows you up like the whale did to Jonah.
And then you’re stuck.
The proverbial stick in the mud.
Which rings doubly true because you can’t do anything anymore.
The things you liked to do?
Nope, cross those off your To-Do list. You have to make a new list.
With new adjectives.
You become boring, complacent;
All because you have become a slave to
Something you couldn’t control.
Something you can’t control.
I’m not complaining.
Or asking for sympathy.
But feeling lost on the ocean, being eaten by a whale
Significantly more fun
Than being stuck inside on a Saturday night
With an icepack on your head since there’s a migraine
The size of Montana breaking through your skull.
I am done with losing this battle.
I’m done with the hopelessness.
I’m cutting my way out of this whale, beating through the baleen
And seeing the sun again.
Even if I have to fight against the ocean and the tides
And pick up both of those oars with my bare hands and row my way
All the way
It’ll be worth it when I can say that I beat it.
That I won.
That there’s still hope.
Even when you’re stuck inside a whale.
I hope that you liked it. Feedback is always appreciated. This is odd for me since I usually don't write poetry, ever.
But how have you guys been? I've been, well a little less than swell but I'm still alive. I hope all of you are doing swell as well.
See you (hopefully) soon!
Love and kisses,