A poem about being sick

I’m sick.
Icy fingers chilling
up my spine
goose pimples dancing
on my arms
my addled brain is filled
with feverish dreams
while I am still awake.

Wrapped in a soft blanket
on the couch
I let go of my
care-giving role
but habits formed
more than half a century ago
do not go quietly.

Alone with my thoughts
I close my eyes
and wonder why
and where and how
and who –

Does it ever strike you
as very strange
that we are nothing more
than walking clouds
of swirling atoms
riding a giant ball
through endless space?

With words we speak
with words we write
with words we lie
with words we seek truth
with words we kill
with words we heal
with words we build bridges
to other lonely souls.

~Lynda Lee, aka Lady Quixote
December 29, 2015

WS-Lady+Me

 

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About Lynda Lee

Lynda Lee is my pen name. I am a former nurse, a Mensa member, and a writer, diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder caused by extreme trauma and narcissistic abuse. Formerly agnostic, I am now a Christian. My husband, a USMC Vietnam War Veteran and a Chaplain, has PTSD caused by combat. We've come a long way on our healing journey and we still have a ways to go. We put the FUN in dysfunctional. :-)
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