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		the fiction of the fix


we like to believe in answers
	                 in absolutes
                          
we like to believe that life makes sense
and that everything has a cure

doctors are no more than medicine men
dressed in white coats
suit and tie or scrubs
we expect answers
as they whirl around us 
sterile amulets draped about them

my body felt torn and old
simply walking and breathing hurt
sleep was agony

and i went to find answers
my body demanded something
my mind crumpled under the pressure

I begged for a fix
         a cure

but there was nothing that they could do
no proven answers
no proven name
just a vague diagnosis, a syndrome
(fibromyalgia)

i saw multiple doctors
different names, different credentials
i tried different drugs
but the cure i sought
                 (the cure i seek)
is fictional

the salve to cure my screaming joints
     my aching muscles
the exercise to quiet my body and mind
so that sleep is heavy and deep
the fix is only fiction
           is only a dream

i walk with fire in my body
i will smile in defiance of my ailments

at least in my mind	
			i will stand strong 
until fiction becomes reality


	

See and hear me read here:


Fibromyalgia is no joke, yo. It sucks tacks. Not mentioned in the poem is that consistent yoga helps me. As well as hot baths, hot tub, and hot showers. 1-2 weeks of a flexeril three times a day might be helping me go into something like remission, but the jury is still out on the cause of my recent remissions. It's also really hard to accept some of the limitations that come with chronic pain. For instance, I don't typically have time to shower before I go downstairs to get the kidlet ready for school; I finally got a cane to help me not involuntarily wince for every one of the 17 steps. It helps, but I surely don't want to think of myself as needing a cane... Gah. The fix becoming reality would be really, really nice.


If you like what you see here go vote: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/787328.html

		it takes two



i remember long ago
	so many years past
	in another lifetime
     we laid together
	spilling secrets
		into the night
    tears dripped from your chin
		and mine
	my heart broke
			over and over again
because i cheated on you
	i slept with another
    and felt that you deserved to know the truth
				my indiscretion 

you cried
	and yelled
		and felt betrayed
	each of your movements
		a pinprick in my heart
			by the end
			you could see the darkness pouring through 
				like daylight through a window

weeks passed and we built towards forgiveness
	but you held this over me
	this big black mark against us
	and how it was my fault

	through my guilt i accepted the role
			      assumed the role of villain
			let you play the victim
			let this inequality continue to create pinpricks
		and we soldiered on
			finding a new safety in this place
				a new comfort

	(but the truth is 
			i never felt comfortable 
                                           or safe
i just played the part
		improvisation off your mercurial nature)

until one day
	in the mountains of colorado
	you let slip a secret
		an untruth you’d told long enough
					that you nearly believed it to be true

	your fidelity
	was a lie

gallons of tears
	hours of fighting
		innumerable moments of misery
and you
      cheated
      too

while i was honest
	bathing in my guilt
	in the guilt you heaped upon me
you simply bit your lip
	and chose disinformation
		pointing towards me
		all the while you were pointing in a mirror

	i     was    never    your    mirror.

-----------------
This was written for LJ IDOL 9 Week 18 Topic: Disinformation

This was not an easy one to get ahold of, but I did it. On time even.

Hear and see me read it here:

Come back and vote later.