It was January 8th—a cold, bitter morning.
The house still lit with holiday cheer and hope,
dragging out the warmth and joy, only to be cut short by the loss.
Sitting quietly on the cold, hardwood floor,
feeling everything and nothing at the same time,
the numbness is setting in, yet there are no tears.
Denial was creeping in—there was sadness, but still no tears.
My legs are still weak, but what would make today different from yesterday morning?
Minutes and hours that pass by too quick when all that is left is time…
time to sit and think and pray and hope,
that I will walk, that this time I wouldn’t fall to the floor.
But wishful thinking is no match, at least for this loss.
There are no silver linings while grieving this loss,
losing the ability to walk not once but twice, my eyes finally fill with tears.
My legs collapse from underneath me as my tears finally hit the floor.
It’s been two days since that cold, bitter morning;
the Christmas lights still gleaming through the dark like a light of hope.
But my hope is fading, I’m running out of time.
Minutes aren’t long enough, I just want more time—
to walk and run and dance…I’m not ready face this loss.
A body slowly shutting down, there’s not much left for hope.
It’s time to be brave, there is no time for tears.
I tried to stand again this morning,
It’s getting harder, now I can’t get off the floor.
It’s January 11th, my dad just helped me get off the floor.
These past few days feel like I’m frozen in time.
My mom is taking down the decorations this morning,
there are no more Christmas lights to overshadow the loss.
The doctors gave me more bad news today, my eyes still burn from the tears.
The weakness is growing, illness is spreading, but I’ll still hold onto what is left of hope.
Have you ever felt what it’s like to lose all hope?
I lost mine the last time I collapsed to the floor.
My dad helped me up one last time, as he tried to hide his own tears.
These were my final days walking; I prayed that I would have more time—
for one more step, one more moment…I’m not ready for this loss.
When I woke up I thought that I had one more morning.
I hope to soon forget this time
when the floor was my rock bottom and my legs my biggest loss.
My tears may have stopped flowing, but I’m still mourning.
#Poetry #Poem #themightypoets #ChronicInflammatoryDemyelinatingPolyneuropathy #Neuropathy #ChronicIllness #Disability