IBS

Pain and emotion at times go hand-in-hand.

Drip. Sweat.

pain

running through my fingers;

can't wait another day,

not one year older.

even when words come to fail

and say, I can't forget the longing

of an endless pool of light,

and happy beginnings.

It's when I step up from the cool floor,

brush the sweat from a tangled neck

that I,

I cannot move,

I cannot speak,

I dare not try

I am too weak, but even knowing

who I am and where I've been,

I sit lowly in a heap,

tracing circles until I feel

I'll fall asleep, then one day wake up with

a hope,

in lover's hands.