Frustration

A poem about being angry at my circumstances.

Sometimes I feel like jumping out of my skin. I feel like ripping out my spine and heaving it over a cliff. I would settle for the ability to trade it in for a new one, though.

When are spinal transplants going to become a thing?

Why can’t I just be normal? Why do the simplest things always have to be a struggle? Why can’t I just have one day where I don’t feel any pain or discomfort?

Why? Why? Why?

I never get any answers, but I can’t stop asking the questions. I can’t stop raging at the world because this is my life. Pain is my reality. I should be used to it by now.

But I’m not.

It still sneaks up on me all the time. It comes out of nowhere like a thief in the night. Stealing my joy. Stealing my normalcy. I’m okay — until I’m not.

I’m so very tired of living with the pain.