I Lost The Marathon - Free Form Poetry 16.7.23.

There is

a cute little race

underway

at this very moment.

Headaches

consecutive, habitual, ritualistic,

and as of current; permanent.

Teeth

are so fucking frightening.

Worse than

nasty words swirling around a swollen brain.

Nerves

are raw, exposed,

refusing all food,

medicine,

and this pain maintains,

persists,

sending thousands of

ten gauges up the

jaw, the

ears.

Losing teeth like a

rigged race.

So intimidated,

ignoring almost all

opportunities of

preventing mess

from getting messier.

And eyes are always

so dry. Never

gonna get

comfortable, Never

sleep,

no head hits

the pillow.

Neck

collapses under daily

strain, stiffening in the

shadows.

Now,

stomach

is still running for first

prize, pinching

headache, guiding

chalky paracetamol down the

throat,

seasoning a sweet, sweet

ulcer

with little remorse.

Some days,

jaw

clenches so tight

diamonds turn to

dust.

The chicken did not come

before the

TMJ.

Yes,

the voices within the

heart

can be cruel.

But,

it is chosen

over and

over and

over.