Walking down the backstreets of a shadowy alley

An obscure dark figure steps out in her path

Throwing an acid bath

Drowning her body

Sinking her soul, to embody

Into a black hole

Never did she think scorching acid would be her daily experience

Burning her body

Up in flames

Screaming at every turn

Stomache churn

Overshadowing conversations

Stopping the flow of soul invitations

Blurring her vision

Cancelling a decision

Drowning out experiences

A chronic illness

They say no cure

A fake allure

And a leaflet is all she got

No solutions or coping mechanisms

A poor state of the world

Inside this leaflet curled

Pills thrown at her

Raining in small shapes

Brainwashed doctors

No clue

No compassion

What a weird wearing fashion

Fibromyalgia

Forever mysterious.

~DiosRaw 31/01/21 10:53AM