There is too much light
in the air today.
My eyelids won’t retreat; 
they’re the heavy squad,
repelling all invaders.
My protection
from a day too heavy

for me, 
for my chest, 
my arms.
my legs.

I can only lie 

down

beneath

its weight.

Breathing takes will.
Push, push the invisible hand
up, 
feel it press back 

down. 

Repeat.

and repeat.

Repeat again.

Muscles rebel.
Fibres tug against their tense kin,
stiffening, a shudder of spasms.
Nerve endings return fire, 
trajectory dipping from collarbone 
toward elbow 
past wrist 
till fingertips vibrate 

like 

plucked 

harp 

strings. 

breathe. 

breathe.

The throb, I ache.

My feet go AWOL – no – 
now they’re back with a burn.
Television assaults me, 
sound and vision launch

breathe.

combined assaults, 
attacking my senses.

My brain scrambles to keep up.

breathe.

In silence, the soft pillows embrace me.
I lean in.
Let them tend my wounds.

 

Scotland