This is her today; this is her tomorrow…

I watch as she rises,
each day supposedly a new dawn,
for her though – it is the same -
seldom does the rising change
except some days – some days;
the pain is worse
than the day before.

Her body aches,
parts of her unable to move -
she waits at the edge of her bed
praying the pain will recede
wishing it never to return
but she knows today’s morning
is tomorrow’s return -

she can only sit there
on the edge of her bed,
looking outward at a normal world -
envying their hustle and bustle lives,
she raises a glass to her mouth;
to the pills that give her life,
she swallows, one – two,

sitting down a wavering glass
her grasp too weak some days
to want to carry on;
she waits with a sense of sadness
filling her soul,
realizing this is the only way
this is her morning glow
the only way she can go on.

she sits in an eternal
blanket of pain
rocking ever so softly
in an imaginary cradle of love,
no one there to hold her,
but were they -
it would hurt to touch her body
this is her today -
this is her tomorrow.

as the magical pills
begin to course through her body
like a slow desperate creek
trying to climb out to the sea,
the pain for now will recede,
never really dissipating
just easing enough
to allow her rise
from the edge of a fading life

she puts on a drug induced smile,
while on the inside her body cries,
four maybe five hours
of a short somber relief,
because as each new dawn comes
the life of the pills are dying,
working less and less
than the day before.

she sits in an eternal
blanket of pain
rocking ever so softly
in an imaginary cradle of love,
no one there to hold her,
but were they -
it would hurt to touch her body
this is her today -
this is her tomorrow.

as the magical pills
course through her body
like a slow desperate creek
trying to climb out to the sea,
once upon the shores, it will recede
only to crash like waves
upon the ever fading shores
yes for now; the pain will recede,

the relief won’t last long though,
soon she’ll need the only entity
which can hold her close
a magical pill, she swallows
such desperate sadness follows
a brief lover who holds her close
keeping her from falling
from the edge of a fading life…

this is her today;
this is her tomorrow.

©By Kristy Tallman – January 2011; All Rights Reserved