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Read this and wanted to share. Not sure who actually wrote it. #AnkylosingSpondylitis #Arthritis
“The Weight That Has No Name”
It lives beneath the surface skin,
A silent storm, a whispering din.
Not loud enough to scream or cry,
But deep enough to question why.
A thousand needles, slow and keen,
Invisible, yet always seen.
The world moves fast, the clocks obey,
While I endure the longest day.
Each morning starts with hope’s refrain,
Each step—a truce with ghosts of pain.
Muscles ache like broken strings,
Joints forget their once-winged wings.
No bandage wraps this kind of fight,
No cast for what keeps me up at night.
It’s patience taught by gritted teeth,
By holding on when strength’s beneath.
But still I rise, I breathe, I bend,
Though pain may never truly end.
There’s beauty in the quiet grace
Of those who walk, but not in haste.
So judge me not by speed or gain,
But by the miles I walk with pain.
For I am more than what you see—
There’s fire yet that burns in me.
