The Pain Of Waking

The Pain of Waking...

Each night I drift into a fragile dark,

Where quiet waits and leaves its subtle mark.

My body warms while something deeper chills,

A shiver threaded through my bones and will.

The joints all hum with whispers sharp and low,

I fold in tight where tender mercies go.

I move and feel the stiffness pull apart,

A brittle echo ringing through my heart.

Wrapped in soft layers meant to hold me near,

I wake in dampened sheets of sweat and fear.

Though warmth surrounds me, cold still finds its way,

A winter living underneath the day.

The itching sings its thin, unending tune,

A restless hymn beneath the moon.

Sleep comes and goes but leaves me feeling thin,

As though it took more life than it brought in.

The morning breaks with pale and borrowed light,

Another step from darkness into fight.

Years pass like this, unseen, unnamed, unsure,

A quiet ache no hands have learned to cure.

I wake each day to simply carry on,

Surviving gently till the strength is gone.