There are so may things that need doing
Things I cannot do
Things that must be done
Things whose time for completion draws near.
My will is screaming go do this,
My body is in sleepless disease
My mind is split and wandering,
My being unresponsive to my world's needs.
I hear a voice in my bell-jar
Telling me to do what must be done
I watch myself as I collapse once more
Unable, without excuse,
Watching myself erode silently
Too many voices speak in my head,
Too many sights elide in my mind.
A hand that no longer responds to my brain,
A voice that is silenced by pride.
Harsh world filled with sunlight,
Looking but unable to see
Anything but what I can no longer do,
Anyone but who I fail to be.
There is no rest for the weary,
No healing for those idiopathic,
Hurting, struggling, silent people,
Devoid of outside disease.
I look in my past at former rest
When my strength matched my will
A body that followed commands,
A mind with a single voice,
Assured of it's health,
Resolute in it's reality.
Now only the glass cage of a body,
Assures me that I still am,
In it's pain and failures, moving
Out of time, unsure of consciousness,
Only aware of what it no longer does.
It is an illness born of necessity,
A life marred without a scream,
Accompanied by mockery,
Devoid of understanding,
Unable to heal of its own accord.
I watched myself crumble like a barren hill,
Eaten by wind and weather,
Witnessed only by silver-white starlight,
And Diana, who would comfort me if she could,
While the world shames me saying:
You were not enough.
Depression and deprivation,
The sleep I need that dances away,
Leaving me staring at my walls.
Life loses meaning and appeal
Hunger a thing of the past.
I thirst now, for healing water,
For healing rest, a Rivendell,
A home in which it is alright,
To not be alright, and
Wait until I am myself once again
Outside the bell-jar, united in voice,
United in sight, where by my will,
I can move my body once again.