Not every day is a 
struggle.  Even if it’s 
hard to remember.

All I can do to move sometimes,
to stay on my feet.  Tunnel
vision grows long, limbs

leaden.  Feel the meds
battling this venom spreading.
Everyone says, “brush it off, it

can’t be that bad.”  Well, sometimes 
it is and I can’t help that.
Time takes the sting from memory.

Stinger sticks to skin,
pressure to grip, pull it out,
only injects more.