When I say I’m tired of being sick
I’m talking about more then headaches
And the slipping of my joints.
The appointments with judgmental doctors…
Normal tests and the same labs as always,
But gotta run them again, just to check…
Fatigue so deep that it seeps down,
Down into the bones and settles into the marrow…
Staring out the window and knowing that outdoors isn’t for you;
After all, there’s pollen and sunshine waiting to attack
Standing in a group of people but still all alone,
Just wishing there was someone to relate to.
Just tired of this prison of flesh
Feeling that I’ve had my turn
Pretty sure I’ve paid everything I owed.
Yet, here I am again:
Donning the special gown
And waiting for my medical date
In another hospital.
Zebra Pig 