New Patient

I am feeling it again.

Goosebumps on my skin.

Pouring sweat,

then I’m cold.

This shit gets old.

Sleeping becomes a sport

moving my legs,

stretching,

contorting,

praying I can get comfortable.

The knot in my stomach

is now the size of my fist.

My joints and bones ache

like someone is pounding

a nail into them.

Throbbing.

Throbbing.

My mind races

even when I’m sedated.

I pray

my new clinic can take it.

A beautiful sober life

I have built for myself.

I was just trying

to get help.

But that’s okay.

I pray

my new clinic can assist.

Anxiety rings through my head.

Becoming a new patient again.

My old clinic

made me complacent.

When I reached out for help,

they said:

We can’t replace it.

The one substance

that assists with a disease

I’ll live with

for the rest of my life.

I’ve felt it coming

for a while.

It’s time now

for my new clinic

to help.