The Ache

When the sting of the hot water hides the sting in your eyes,

Salt in wounds, re opened everyday.

To remind you, you’re not you anymore.

And I’m tired of telling everyone I’m OK,

I want to scream IM NOT OK.

But they don’t understand, no one could.

When they ask how I feel, where it hurts…

I feel like I was just punched in the gut with every bit of food I take,

Not to mention the feeling of glass cutting your esophagus rolling straight into your lungs so that later… when you hiccup? They can cut your ribs.

Oh and don’t worry about breathing...

Feeling a vice around my sternum that retaliates at me truing to take a deep breath, only to tighten harder on both my heart and spine, shooting stars outward, along every single rib front and back.

And don’t be confused by the beauty of shooting starts.

I literally mean, a burning ball of gas slowly dying into the atmosphere.

And then there’s that lump, in the back of your throat, scared to tell anyone you’re scared because that means you’re anxious and stressed.

Well hell yes I have anxiety!

I have anxiety that ill always feel this way.

I have anxiety that my husband is seeing me more and more as fragile. Weak.

Rather than the woman he chose to marry who was independent. Strong.

Capable. No one to mess with.

It was all taken from me.. I didn’t choose this.