Extreme Hypothyroidism

Aug. 12, 2010


How to explain

this process…

all I am is slow,

watching and hearing

            all the world whiz by,

while I

            but shuffle-walk,

do little,

            rest much,

never catch up,

learn that it takes

energy to clean the house,

            enter and exit

                        the car,


            hold a book

                        or even lay it flat

for more than five minutes,

brush my teeth without those battery-operated bristles,

will myself to roll

            out of bed

                        or force my head

                                    to overcome gravity

and sit normally?

It’s like those times

when you know you’re about

            to black out,

                        but you’re walking in the

                                    hall, propelling

                                                yourself weakly, urgently

                                                            to the nearest chair.

How to explain

motionless butt, rut-sticking

like being duct-taped

by your own muscles

and watching as a captive

the strange patterns of geometric shapes

that swarm about your eyes

on the edge of sleep

like mathematical demons

feasting on fatigue?

How to explain

the eagerness for freedom,

            yearning for the pills of life,

                        prayers for a short interval,

the returning of vigor,

            slowly filtering back,


easing away the swelling,

banishing the sharp-pointed triangles

and restoring

            everything we take

                        for granted?


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