The phone rings

as my head comes

to.

I reach

feeling pain

I never

before knew.

My hand remains

where it lies

as my mind reels

pins and needles

inside.

Prickling

under the skin.

Where I am

you can’t let terror in.

Your dragon to slay is

that you see.

It will win

with fear free.

Waiting for the numbness to

subside.

Paralysis sits in;

a writers demise.

Slowly the snakes’ pits

open and hiss.

As your mind begins to

say fuck this.

As you try to close your hand,

nerves do not respond,

helpless and alone,

your mind screams.

“Your body betrays you,

can’t you see?”

With in the writers hands lies humility.

Time passes slowly as the pain begins to die,

subside,

As tears remain held back

inside.

Deterioration of nerves,

that steal from the body,

to survive.

You have to fight to win,

you were chosen

to stay alive.

I turn to the clock as the fingers now move,

only 360 seconds stolen that time.

At least this time it did not numb

my mind.

Though I wonder,

with the hands

to feel the pain.

Will my voice

go next;

are the powers that be

so cruel.

My road was not chosen in the lightest of paths.

I chose the one that most men pass.

Knowing that round

that thunder that there has to be.

A rainbow for all to see.

Holding fast to that as I watch my body go.

Words locked in my head,

as fear lies below.

Waiting,

wanting

to eat me alive.

I accept this condition,

this nightmare,

this blessing in disguise.

I can handle the numbness

and the needle pricks.

I can handle the worshiping

the

porcelain Goddess.

The exhaustion,

the need to not eat.

The days my body forgets I have feet.

I can handle what is to come,

if that is what is to be.

My hands,

now

that is a different story.

Everyday I am thankful

for such little things.

Like that small walk to

the bus,

to the subway,

to Manhattan.

I relish in the good days my

mind is to have.

I am even thankful for the

the bad.

Neurologically,

my body

currently hates

me.

No one likes what the

signs

seem to be.

Even

in a

situation,

one must be thankful

for the lesson.

Granted,

this is true.

But don’t forget,

when in pain.

It is ok to scream,

shout,

have some

sorrow.

Do not forget there is a tomorrow.

As the journey I follow is one less

traveled.

This shall nay leave me unraveled.

Just please

to the powers

that be.

Do you think we could leave

the writers hands out of this battle

of the body you seek?

For if you take away my hands

I will have no choice but to begin to speak.