A poem about how pain can feel like it takes over your identity. Written in a flare. Any Spoonies who can relate, please make yourself known in the comments!
How do you reconcile the different sorts of love? How do you risk loving someone you depend on? How do you deal with the constant confusion of desperation and gratitude?
Am I crying enough? Am I crying too much? Why am I not crying at all? What ‘stage’ of grief does the model say I’m in? What am I supposed to do with all these emotions inside me?