You may not be going anywhere,
but still some things are in motion,
and it looks insane to live
with a terrible, crippling nausea
which only subsides when the medicine
hits your cubital vein.
You talk the talk making ripples
in these placid waters
that on the surface remain,
and your heart looks like a wildflower-
it wilts in autumn, hides in winter,
and blooms only when it rains.
There has to be a cure for
such madness somewhere
for not a thing here lasts forever,
not even the chronic pain.
“Forever has no meaning when you’re living in the moment. I wasn’t ready for that moment to end.”