When Light Hurts

*trigger warnings regarding chronic conditions, including particularly serious ones   Migraine I recognise Sensory disturbance, I’m calmer knowing what it is; My brain   On fire, Waiting For full diagnosis Thinking of Dad’s aneurisms, Anxious,   My sight blurs I am fire and ice Pressures rise Behind eyes; I had brain damage at birth, Now…

Disposed To Be

  They’re kind words, true; difficult times never last forever, this news, not hers, only mine inclined ‘til the bow;   I won’t be OK; incurable, I’ll dazzle like a wave, breaking.   Antonia Sara Zenkevitch   With Thanks for Colleen Cheesbro’s Tanka Tuesday prompt, this week the words were trouble and game and I chose…

I am Zebra

There are stripes

Hidden within

My pale skin,

Zebra stripes

Where the matter of me is stretched thin

Light and dark matter between

Each cell’s loose connections,

Each day my stripes go unseen

By those whose fear casts reflections;

Projections of who they fear themselves to be

As they try to warp and bend my sense of identity,

But their fear is not me.

Do Say

Do say, don’t abate,
unleash that sly stream of hate;
feign each injury
is just advise to cure me.

Fog

thick fog descending,

fighting to find thoughts missing

in the throbbing swam. 

You Are Not Alone

You are not alone, a cliché but true,
though it sounds like another platitude
beneath which judgement or indifference lies,

yet, when sincere, this phrase can catalyse

threads spun across oceans, footsteps on the moon …

Butterflies

Don’t fret about the shades

that flit before my eyes

they are my butterflies,

Dark Matter

it bends my light;

stretches me

as universe implodes

slowly

Diagnosis 07/02/19

(*this post is about living the diagnostic process of a serious chronic illness and may contain triggers)   They have to rule out worse alternatives But it’s almost definite, As geneticists speak of neurologists Physiotherapists, cardiologists And, if they deign to see me, Rheumatologists, There’s a remote possibility Of the one specialist Rehabilitation place in…

The Jade Quill

Life

between

sheets of dreams

knowing none know

where my tides convene

at breaker’s edge, the brow

transformed in the under-toe;