Exhaustion runs through me
that I am sure my body now uses it
in place of 30% of my blood.
I can't think.
Eating feels too strenuous
unless I can rip open a bag.
And then if I do,
what I eat is so tasteless
that I end up spitting it out
into the garbage.
Why bother making the effort to chew that crap.
I look haggard,
My skin does not reflect exuberance
but looks more like a pond that has not been drained
properly, murky, unclear and blotchy.
I know that I am killing myself.
Not by over dosing on pills,
but by just running at this pace,
the pace of a young,,hustling widow
I know it needs to stop,
or my body will stop me.
And then I will be made to rest
in a hospital
and it will be a fitful, uneasy rest
because even there
I will be making the ever changing priority list
of things that NEED to get done.
So as I crawl into bed, faced with
the prospect of getting
8 hours of sleep, instead of the 5 I can't exist on
I promise myself that I will
I promise that I will stretch in the morning.
I promise that I will use the damn massage
gift certificate that was
sent to me
over a year ago.
(This person took the time to send me several of them! So I better damn use them. THANK YOU whoever you are.)
I promise to refill the well with water by
and doing nothing
for at least 30 minutes a day.
He would be proud of me for all of my promises.
He used to say
"What? Do you think you'll finally
get everything done on your list?
You will die with a to-do list so
stop worrying about it so much."
He died with his to-do list
and the biggest thing that is going