She had Arthritus

Two aunts have it
I have it
My aunts
Lucky
Mild cases
My great grandmother
the worst kind
Rheumatoid
like me
Hard to avoid
constantly
consistently annoyed
when the pain kicks in
the pain thickens
as it swells
and that inflamed portion
is where you want an abortion
from the body
as where before it starts
the process
The stress on the flesh
stretched out
chips away at my cartilage
feeling less than excruciating
someone said that word described
Jesus's hazing
as is how the word excruciating
was born
someone said
before Jesus was
Reborn
...someone said
and I, I believe that
torn from a crucifix
saved from a grave
unburried
God carried
Jesus
Picking him up
dusting him off
like all good fathers 'should' do
could and would do
if they were not like my father
praising himself
alone
on his throne
happy and blue may be
I don't know
maybe I will never knew
as easy as it is to feel a crush
on yourself
with this nail punching pain
watching yours and my health
deteriorate
two shades fade fuschia
reaching for red smiles
clenching on a black crimon hate
complaining about rheumatoid
this arhtritus
Violently violentless
crippling future fighting this
when nature whips
it lashes out
torchering me
while it scorches she
my great grandmother
to the point of no return
throbbing robbing pain
as it hurts when it comes
and grows
Only relieving when it goes
until the who knows
how long you have before you are crippled
after the crippling
bone on bone
lessens the cartilage to extinction
once again me overthinks him
as where three doctors could not help me
after it's temporary state of agony
unlike now where as the calming storm
overlooks the horizon
as the arth's eyes are our sin
I see the pain in my eyes again
lasting no more than a week
about twice a year
for the last 5 years
now and how
This intervenes in my comfy routine
making me feel like a ninty year old teen

So obscene
this might seem
Try this
Take your hands for a minute
Hold them out
Turn them over
palms up
fingers webbed
curl the tips of your fingers
toward you
like a guy reaching out to cop
two feels
your hands stretched
like that
for minutes
four minutes
hours
try on days
you will not
but some of us can
unwillingly
as you
are just holding them their
for granted
maybe
if you only knew what it would be like
to be handless
where your arms stop at your wrist
you could relate or atleast
understand
that the fingers
become statues
or statuettes
untrophied
positioned
De-FAWCKING-formed
waaaaaay
waaaaay way way waaay
out of the norm
are you feeling warm?
to feel priveleged
to not have to deal
with an uncold frostbite
unfanged vampire bite
the venom from the snake bite
10 fingers not all right
now, now do you see
me and my grandmothers
HANDS
cripping and crippled
she had held them their
For good
and evil
or ever
as long as you must
stuck
in that position
STUCK
FAUCKED
being suspended
in mid air
Haunting daunting
future lurking
from a physical aspect

Feeling my body reject
as time is against me
Time is against us all

Yeah, I write alot
put myself on the spot
But seriously
How long do I got?
to move
in motion
in beats
heart to feet
head to hands
hands die
head cries
and it doesn't know why
and
I don't know
why
all I know
is my feet and
hands will be
the first
paralyzed
in due time
after all the aftershocks I take
one day the not so great earthquake
shacking shackles of pain
yes the pain
reminding me
of it's agony
white flagging me
making me want to
want to write more
poems

Because
Who knows
how long I have
I dont
and I wont
stop writing
until the pain
kicks in again
taking me to that, that place
of torture

Fearing that day one day
I will write no more
I will right no more
fearing that day

as it seeps in
creeps in my joints
like parasites
My joints
a room down every hall that bends
reserved for cartliage
all the lights on in each
waiting rooms for the unsecure guard
stops at his mouth and says
"Hey Gingervit! we have the same last name!"
holding a cup to my knee
in me I hear the arthy
marching to make its round
invading each room one by one
shutting of each light
as he skips down the halls
he skips because I hate it
because it knows I would not do that to
myself if I could control it
like this
these things
somethings
in life we can
as if everything
could be a thing
I am noticing
and wanting to think a head
and learn to write with a pen in my mouth
as my neck is the last ounce of me capable to dance
to my love
who has yet to let me down
when everything elses has stopped
as it goes
I go
a white horse
in a dark house
with one light left on in the attic
it flicks and twitches
resistence
asking for forgiveness
the light
starts to smoke
trying to heave
uncloaked
my last words
dying to climb out
before I choke

I have RA, it's the worst

I’ll be your hands upon the Sand
Your ink to the pen
The arms that hold your pain
I’ll be
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh sweet child
Kiss’s
Mom

great write, peace

this touched me to the core
never knowing when health challenges
come knocking at our door
to change our lives forevermore

((((d4tc))))

me too
thanks for
putting it
into words

i think some
of my new
poetry
is inspired
by d4tc
i can feel it

a type of
genius
rythym
you
have
bro

REDGIRL
LaMom
pkd
jimz

jimz, I could say thank you for a comment/compliment like that but let's just say it fueled a fire to write a poem for you.

First time I ever wrote a poem for a guy. Hahahaha!

Painful to read but so touching

(((Jason))) I would lend you my hands and ears to keep your musing flowing as we are all truly blessed by those wonderful wrinkles of yours!

MAD PROPS!!!

You will never stop writing Sweet ((((J))))....whether you dictate or do it by some other means....your Soul cannot and will not be silenced

I bless your hands and your pain today, and tomorrow...and,......everyday!

That's so sad, oh my what can I say, awwwwh!

Noden
AngelLight
Vicki

We Love you Sweet (((J)))