Tag Archives: #chronicpain

3rd floor liminality

It’s cold today
What a boring
Thing to say

They think

As they say it

It could be colder
Anyway
Somehow today
The cold is
In their bones
Still lately they’re not
So sad as they were

Just pensive
Busying themself
The best they can

Pain lurks
They have plans

Writing stories
Creative hands

They wonder about
New things
& for the first
Time in a long
Time they can
Set themself to
Them

Sickness sickness
It won’t go
But they won’t either
& as they come to
Love themself more
They come to understand
It

The winds
Blow strength
& fear into them
In their
3rd floor
Liminality

© Niliema Karkhanis


Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash


How?

I can’t

Understand

How I

Wake up

Each day

& yet

There

I find

Things

To do

& to say

Work fills

My pores

I open

Closed

Doors

Years

Are like

minutes

Enter

Exit

Dream visits

Unresolved

Edits

From pen

Upon words

Ink running dry

Before ends

Absurd

© Niliema Karkhanis

Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash

barometre

today

a migraine

a barometre

of pressure

warm air

aura

lifts

itself

vertigo

swirling

coolness

down

constriction

around

around

construction

of nervous

system

photo

sensitive

activation

profound

movement

stop

return

ow

response

vein

pulse

pain

again

wait

now

© Niliema Karkhanis

Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash

Paper & pen

Photo

by Carli Jeen

on Unsplash

You said the

Morning isn’t

Your time

Quietly Sipping tea

You make it work Anyway

Pain

You don’t know Anymore

Where

Everywhere

Here

You watch the day

You are it

It is about air

Air & shreds

Of things unsaid

You are about

Paper & pens

Pens & paper

Breathing […]

Paper & pen

Ⓒ Niliema Karkhanis

Paper & pen

Photo by Carli Jeen on Unsplash

You said the

Morning isn’t

Your time

Quietly

Sipping tea

You make it work

Anyway

Pain

You don’t know

Anymore

Where

Everywhere

Here

You watch the day

You are it

It is about air

Air & shreds

Of things unsaid

You are about

Paper & pens

Pens & paper

Breathing in

Somehow

Even though

The fire of things

Consumes you

You play along

Ink in hand

You are silver

Facing flame

You become

A few things

They become you

Never flaunting

Anything

Nothing orders you

Except circumstance

& aching

Sometimes alive

You make it work

Ⓒ Niliema Karkhanis