Happy Place

Take me to my Happy Place where dreams are long in outer space.
Body parts still move about without a care or need for crutch.
Where worry doesn’t happen and we laugh and stay in touch.
For awakened from the slumber to reality as it is; the romantic lights have faded and the drink has lost its fizz.
Pain dwells deep within these aging bones of fragile; no longer am I quick, or bendable, and agile.
They finally gave a name to this mystery with.
Fibromyalgia has been living deep within my skin.
I wasn’t so surprised for I have lived long with its disguise.
Without the proper knowledge, it’s not seen with just your eyes.
No, it creeps in at night and tightens like a rope; getting out of bed is greater than a joke.
I lean against the furniture and hang tight to grocery carts.
Sudden pains shoot madly from different body parts.
I used to count the good days, as the higher number here.
Now pain has one the war as I glance within the mirror.
I don’t recognize myself for who I used to be; my skin is just as weathered as any naked tree.
I forge ahead with puzzles; what lies ahead for me?
Yet sleep brings dreams with pieces of who I used to be.
I was sharp and smart and quick to learn; now lesson manuals might as well burn.
For memory seems to be a thing now lost within the past, so when I have a good day I pray that it might last.
Then every day is scratched with ink onto the paper; a trace of events to remember before the restless slumber.
Time is of the essence and health is precious here.
Hold tight to all the good days as golden jewels so dear.