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June 18, 2017 / edwardonbebop

Tunnel effect

The disease had no name,
So my body handled it
By its own.

Making me feel older than a dying tree.

Every move and every thought,
Like a marathon,
Like a boxing fight.

My strengths consumed, I felt fragile as a dried flower.

I soon entered a survival mode, concerned only
By immediate matters,
Eat, sleep, repeat.

Survival is like a long tunnel.

Nothing to be seen ahead I could only rely on
My hands to feel
walls and obstacles.

Driven only by the will of not turning back simply moving forward.

My morale was slowly diminished by the lack of physical strength,
Like an iceberg
Taken away by the sun.

Inside this tunnel, there were no milestones, so I got lost.

Only when I approached the exit could I realize,
How lost I had been.
How dark it was down there.

How I could have lost myself forever,
Just because of
An invisible tiny bacteria.



Leave a Comment
  1. edwardonbebop / Jun 18 2017 9:15 pm

    This is me trying to go back to poetry after that cursed disease, so it is not the best thing I ever wrote. It is still something though.
    (Plus: I feel like I lost 50% of my brain because of the disease. 😮 )

  2. leeniedevinity / Jun 20 2017 1:42 pm

    Your imagery is spot on. I’ve very glad you came out the other side.

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