Twice a week
I wake to the smell of proteins slowly solidifying in syringes
Just waiting to be released
Sundays and Thursdays supposed to be after dinner but sometimes im early
It just depends on my mood or if I even feel mechanistic enough to heal
Sometimes I kill immunities in the morning
I inhale the scent of metal and sweat just waiting to press a too dull needle beneath my skin and fat
Hoping that this time
In the moments I wait between joint and medicated pain
I might find some sort of new way to move
A lot of my life is spent waiting
But not for the sting
That comes quickly
Range of motion
That comes slowly
Following
Sometimes too far behind to even draw a connection
Im wondering what level ill go to next if I ever want to play sports again
You see I want to recover
So I take medicine
Every morning and night
Not quite sure how much
Because I don’t really pay attention
But at any given time there can be up to 2k milligrams of anti-inflammatories running through veins
and 50mg of imuno suppressing proteins
I’m lucky
Because even after an auto immune disease has captures my joints
Named me arthritis
I’m still walking
And so twice I week
I take my immune system two triggers back when I release
Kill my bodies ability to protect me from the common cold, mono, or anything else that requires decent imunities
Just so that I can bend my knees??
And breathe
And because of this
I know the grass isn’t always greener
The air isn’t always cleaner
And the pain and confusion hardly ever gets any clearer
So where do I turn
Who do I look to
Because I’ve been looking inward through mirrors that
Only reflect more problems and issues that I don’t have the answers to
I’m just a teen loaded with unanswerable questions
Spending ours on commercial search engines
googling my own conditions
time-lining my own skewed existence
looking back on a life I haven’t yet lived
Twice a week
I injest these things
Two shots for whats in-between
Two shots closer to being free
I wait for health
I wait for release
I’m waiting for remission
I’m not sure when its coming
Because
I’ve heard it smells a lot less like syringes and more like peace
And yet
I’m still waiting
Wondering
When my life will step outside of the lines that’s hold only 3 days periods
When I start to live with out times restrictions
Wondering when the lines will expand to fit my whole body and life in
Without making me cut and paste strength and pain
Im waiting for the approval to live again
Im waiting for the strength that doesn’t come in a bottle of syringe
Im waiting for my body to stop being such a baby
Im waiting
Im watching
Im wishing
And I’m wondering
If the waiting
Will ever start to feel like living
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