Thursday, April 7, 2011

the invisible woman in the mirror

When you have a chronic illness
being asked a simple,
"how are you?"
is the ultimate loaded question...

Not only do you have to decide
what you want to answer
but you also need to decipher
what the asker
really wants to hear...

Most of the time
you can depend on your instincts...
especially if you've been doing this dance
for a long time...

And then there are the times
when you're just too tired
to dance...

By writing this
I am claiming my share
of responsibility...

I'm not good or clear or fair
about asking
when I need something...

For me it's just easier to do nothing...
say as little as possible
and hang out with the poodles...

April is National Poetry Month
so in that spirit
since I am nothing
if not a poet at heart...

I'd like to express myself
in the way I feel I am
the most free,
the most honest,
the most me...
in a prose poem this time...

perhaps I should have used
an ordinary pencil
when I signed into some one's life

at least then
if they wanted to be rid of me
there would still be all those little scruffy bits left over
when the eraser was done working

I don't think I meant to be arrogant
when I signed my name
in vibrant inky purple

I always chose the small letters
non intrusive, but maybe still, distinctive
they suit my name
and me
look neater on the page
were quieter too
didn't cause trouble
or impose

but here I am
rounding another corner
that wicked spell caster
who recently claimed my cards
is up ahead
flicking her wrist again
turning my glorious violet ink

When you have a chronic illness
it's too easy to get into the habit
of staying home...
of being alone...
of waiting...

It's too easy to pretend
that you're doing more...

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