poetry & prose
I Still Bleed
Cap off the syringe
Next: measure air
Stab into the vial
Draw out with care
Insulin pours in
Needle pulls out
Ready for my jab
What choice do I have?
Flawless injection
Wham, bam, it's done
No bruise, no blood, no pain
This time, I've won
Next time, I hope
That it will be the same
A model injection
Does not hit a vein
I cannot guarantee
How the next few shots will be
Minds of their own
Injection, ready, go
Sharp needle, pinch
No surprise, it hurts
Fourteen years of practice
Blood still trickles out
A sour shot, it stings
No reason to record
It could have been the angle
The mood of the sword
No time to dwell on throbbing
It's time to think and doubt
Did I get my full dose?
When the medicine seeped out?
Insulin and blood
Resting on my skin
A perfect little bubble
Diabetes gets a win
To answer your big question
You're used to it, right? Down to an art?
No, I reply, this condition is
A convoluted game of darts
Just one little gain
I cannot let it bother
If I ponder droplets
I'll forever be in sorrow
Clean up, look, a bruise
Two plus weeks, at least
Black and blue, then yellow
The marker will retreat
My mind has adjusted
My soul has relaxed
But my body seems to fight it
Every prick, it reacts
Instincts tell the truth
As dust makes us sneeze
Needle five of fifty-thousand
Of course, I still bleed.
-JJ