Implicit and often explicit within the code of honor of chronic illness throbs the expectation to be fearless. Brave, consistently optimistic and unafraid we are expected to embody a paragon of moral superiority while simultaneously navigating a macabre terrain of unyielding pain, insomnia, medical bureaucracy and imperative self-advocacy. Well, let me tell you how ridiculous this all seems to me. The transparency and full disclosure of my fear and uncertainty is one of the very things that has permitted me to persevere. So, this is me inviting you to express proudly your deepest fears, doubts and frustrations. Gooooooo!
Art by Els van Laethem
reflection
Time Like The Sweet Drip of Honey
Beneath a tidal wave blueI almost ceased to be
Waiting for somebody to come die with me
Tucked like treasure deep inside, my dismay over his absence I dare not hide
The drip of time like sweet honey, like sweet honey
Who will kneel by my bedside as I cease to be, cease to be
Oh, the drip of time like sweet honey
Tossed like a ragdoll among the deepest sea, where else in the world would he want to be?
As the angles of my bones cut further every day, why, oh why didn’t you stay? The drip of Time like sweet honey, like sweet honey. Who will kneel by my bedside as I cease to be? Won’t you be the somebody to come die with me?
Two different kinds of gone is all we will ever be, the last dregs of our togetherness fall away from me. Time, oh time, like the sweet trip of honey, a life spent searching for somebody to die with me.
In Between The Lines 