Poetry
To Be A Rose in War
A poem about the pain of living with hidradenitis suppurativa
The tears I have surrendered to this war
Could water the garden in me.
Oh, how I’d love to collapse
In the middle of this battlefield,
Patch the pain with
A seed offering
To the God of healing.
Be granted three wishes
1
To be freed from the hurt caused by the things I never wished for.
2
To love on the parts of me I could have never planned for.
3
A key to open even a window to heaven,
to speak to God
to ask him what I did to deserve this chronic pain
To tell him this isn’t the task I thought he’d give me
Even if he thought I was one of his strongest soldiers.
Wounds still tender
Raw flesh ripened by the heat of the sun
Active skin regeneration
Shooting pain in left arm
Red, black, and blue scar on right
And I wonder would he even listen?
What value could this sprout have?
Could he still see it for the beautiful flower it would become?
Encourage the fight in me
to be strong in the face of all the things
I thought I couldn’t handle.
Tell me to speak for the wilted flowers
That are just like me?
To nourish them with the rainwater
I’ve collected on my return to base
Would I even be able to do it?
