Ribs

The drink you spilt all over me"Lover's Spit" left on repeatMy mom and dad let me stay homeIt drives you crazy getting oldSometimes I pretend, in the moments before waking, that I am a child once again.  That instead of this old hapless body, I am unencumbered by the chains of longevity.  In these unconscious waves of semi reality I am unaware of the degraded muscle and brittle bone.  I jump up and down on the bed and than race out the door through the endless fields of corn.  My father, the stocky build of a farmer, runs after me.  Before his skin became old and sallow.  Before I watched them lower his body into the ground.  I was middle aged by then.This dream isn't feeling sweetWe're reeling through the midnight streetsAnd I've never felt more aloneIt feels so scary getting oldThey are all dead now: mom, dad, my sister.  After my son died, they brought me to this place.  They thought that I was mute after the stroke.  I guess it had never occurred to all those doctors that I may not have wanted to talk.  And of course, if you don't speak, you must be stupid.  The staff comes to my room and yells at me in loud, slow tones.  I stare at them determinedly but don't dare make a sound.  Who would believe it now?  I whisper in the midnight darkness to no one in particular, it reminds me that I am still here.Everyone I know has died.  A hundred years of motion, it app...
Source: In My Humble Opinion - Category: Family Physicians Authors: Source Type: blogs