the cobwebs of the day grew thicker even coffee proved useless after three ten-hour shifts mucking around in and on the bodies of those ravaged by detrimental accidents necessitating ER visits an assembly line of in-home, highway, work, and all other accident producing places a mild laceration from slicing oranges to a hand versus garbage disposal situation or fists breaking windows following jaws broken by fists to anaphylactic shock from eating peanuts using a scale of 1 – 10 i witnessed and fixed hundreds of every number i was exhausted it was time to go home
my decision to stay for the third shift may not have been my best as i watched cones laid around my mangled car the overturned truck and its driver unconscious but thankfully breathing, unlike me my dead and bloodied body on the pavement still the red life liquid from my corpse almost reaching the closest cone
this natural disaster
is bringing us to our knees
even those who lead
or inspire us
are shedding tears
not able to guide
the few strong
of us left
this domino effect
a chain reaction
to the unknown
makes us all feel
like tumbling down
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.*
Every damn day. This life, a daily grind of excruciation.
Always having to adjust mentally, physically and emotionally.
Moving through my day as cautiously as possible.
Pushing through the pain, feeling productive & proud.
I’m beyond the agony when I’m able.
But some days I have no spoons and I go
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave**
*Source: “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot **Source: “Dirge Without Music” by Edna St. Vincent Millay