Blackness behind weary eyes,
Tiredness scratches at her brain.
Fog descends and confusion builds
And she knows that to others she seems insane.
Hallucinations and blurry letters,
Computer screen undulates and dances
As she struggles to stay awake,
And ignore everybody’s questioning glances.
So much medication that she no longer functions,
“The Drugs Don’t Work”, The Verve once said.
Well, not in the ways she needs them, it’s true,
Don’t relieve the pain, but anaesthetise her head.
Joints that crunch and muscles tied in knots,
And with no end yet in sight
The days exhaust her, and leave her aching,
And occasional sleep offers no respite.
Doctors do not seem to care,
The NHS is in crisis, you see
Their priorities are set on other things,
And they have no time for little old me.
But her life is unravelling the longer this lasts,
And her future is in jeopardy.
And all she really wants to do
Is scream and cry out, “Won’t somebody help me?”