Chronic

Think back to the day your visitor arrived
Bearing a bottle of indelible ink
The cap loose, spilling it
Clean water poisoned
A spreading stain of pain

Marvel at how you’d failed to notice
Those parts of yourself, most of them
The ones that had once
Felt perfectly fine
Functioning without complaint

Consider how once
You thought you knew pain
You’d hosted it before
The pan handle burn
The trod upon instep
The too heavy chair stack
That blew out your back
The terrible flu
That went round the office

Accept that your rude visitor
Is now your body’s tenant
Having taken up permanent residence
Where eviction laws hold no sway

Remember how you once tried
To rent an apartment
But the showing was canceled
Sorry, said the realtor
The owner has cancer
He’s having a “bad day”

You’d hung up the phone
Feeling a quiet resentment
Buck up, buttercup
We all have problems

But today is the day
You’ve stopped hoping

Today is the day
You finally understand

 

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