We Russle, Tussle You and I

We Rustle, Tussle You and I:

We rustle, tussle as I awake, and even as I sleep.

We engage in a battle of wills,

If the heavens smile on me that day, well, I am the victor.

If they don’t, the pain will piece, it will pierce into my very soul.

We rustle, we tussle, you and I, even as I sleep,

As the various pharmacy work to calm,

To calm the waves, pins needles of fire and pain,

Sleeping soundly, often a fleeting thing,

Something hoped for,  prayed for, Amen.

 

We tussle, we tussle you and I, have done so for so long now,

Fibromyalgia, my constant companion,

Yet, I will not let the final victory, the final victory be yours.

You see, in the end, at the end of the day my faith sets me free,

And I have wings to fly, wings to fly.

 

We russle, we tussle you and I.

We may do so till the end of my time,

Yet I have no rancor, no shacking of firsts at the heavens.

You see, in the end, at the end of the day my faith sets me free,

And I have wings to fly, wings to fly, Amen.

 

This poem is one I wrote that reflects my day to day journey through fibromyalgia.  It really is like a russle and tussle day to day and it is faith that keeps me in flight, that keeps me a fighting warrior, refusing to give in, give up.  Yes, those of us can outwardly look fine, but inwardly our body is a constant battle with the syndrome that is like a phantom haunting life every day in some way.