They come with the territory.
The Unfortunate Territory of
Gifts that come with the treatment and hopefully,
remission, or whatever you want to call it.
The continuation of life in some quality.
These gifts are thrust upon you (Who would be so stupid as to
Steroids to make you inflammation-free, fat and moon-faced.
Jumpy, jittery, sleepless.
Narcotic pain killers that make you zone out big time while
they make you welcome the next one with its numbing affects.
Throat pain from your friend Radiation.
And a weakened raspy voice.
A right hand that doesn't grasp as it should because of nerve damage.
Your hand that as an artist you depend on.
And the wall of tears that comes out of nowhere,
in the evening.
Gut-retching tears that have no explanation
but you know why you cry them.
Should have gone to bed earlier.
They're there to ambush you with the darkest of thoughts.
Hopeless, helpless thoughts.
That leave me with no choice but to bring out
The Big Trump Gift.
The Word of God.
Wonderful, refreshing, holy and true.
Wonderful, refreshing, holy and
It works every time it's read out loud.
By my Boyfriend.
Every time it's prayed or whispered in my raspy voice.
It's God's balm to my soul.
A free gift.
No purchase necessary.
All images via Pinterest