Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – “It’s a Fact of Life” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW September 5, 2017. 

Excuse the length. I saw the photograph and it fit my poem well. Since I’m still two weeks behind I don’t know that it matters 🙂 

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Credit: Artycaptures.wordpress.com

——-

When I visit here, 

It’s a fact of life. 

Blood drawn with tiny needles.

Some days they sting, 

Stringing out two seconds. 

Other days, the needle doesn’t register. 

It was a fact of life,

I had to visit here each week,

For the first six months. 

Then, every other week, 

Now each month the rest of my life. 

It’s a fact of life, 

So I don’t pay much attention. 

Facing away when the needle grazes, 

The same ‘good’ vein. 

Blueish-purple in my left arm, 

Silver-violet threads of blood vessels. 

Some months these needles bruise, 

Leave my skin raw and red; 

But If I’ve someone skilled,

There’s a slight indentation. 

Each month —

Babies crying concertos. 

An ominous feeling in the air. 

They’ve no choice —

But to know sharp pain. 

A poke stinging eternities of fire, 

For a wink in time. 

Wailing and —

The waiting room patients’ sigh. 

Then silence follows, 

The miniature massacre. 

Everyone checking, rechecking watches, 

Pulling out phones. 

Waiting for that sickening needle, 

Shuffling in seats,

Legs crossed and uncrossed. 

Glossy magazine pages turned, 

With frequent frustration. 

Toddlers running,

Mothers trying to calm them, 

Hushing their lively squeaks. 

I’m used to having blood drawn, 
Turning my head, 

Focusing on some object, 

Or a distant thought. 

There’s persistent pain as the needle pulls, 
My blood into the tube. 

Six to nine tubes today, 

Blood annexed for annual work. 

These tests burn —

Worse than the tattoo artist’s etching. 

Sketching out the black lines, 

Worse than her needle, 

Grazing repeatedly, 

Skin with vibrant colours. 

Back and forth movements, 
Calming and hushing,

Knowing what to expect and where. 

Conversation, music soothing, 

Then, the artist is done. 

Her needles leaving, 

A work of art behind. 

But the blood test needles ache worse. 

Similar to the last flu shot,

Some years not felt at all.

Other years a poke that —

Throbs all day. 

Despite praying the pharmacist,

Will slide the needle in,

Not deliver a death blow. 

Droplets of bright blood plop, 

To the stark white floor. 

She laughs, this never happens. 

Her mouth turns downward, 

Because you grimace, 

Squish your eyes shut counting the seconds;

Until the hurt dulls. 

She wonders why you wince, 

Why you’re so sensitive.

Says the swelling will fade, 

You’ll live, 

It’s a fact of life. 

It’s a matter of proper training, 

Slipping any needle in gently. 

Not jabbing and mincing, 

A persons veins or muscles. 

Yet still, a fact of life. 
But I remember being six and crying,

Fighting my mother, 

She was angry. 

Because I saw the needle, 

And refused. 

Today, the blood test needles are thinner. 

Adults can ignore them, right

Grit their teeth while the bloods, 

Ripped away, into a tube. 

It’s a fact of life. 

That some things are sharper and dig holes deeper, 

Than blood tests, flu shots, or tattoos. 

There is greater pain flowing from our insides,

If only the hurt could be drawn out as blood. 

If happiness, no worries, and no obligations —

Was all that remained behind. 

If only —

The tattoo artists colours, 

Garunteed you with fantastic health. 

And flu shots didn’t speak of fragility; 

Only the best humors in our blood. 

Gossamer strings supporting dreams. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

 

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A Bad Start


Not Getting Along
Not Getting Along

It’s been one of those too crazy weeks. It began fighting with A over a disappointing New Year’s not just because I had a throbbing headache that night but because he took off around 5:30 pm on New Year’s, left me all alone, and decided last-minute he needed a haircut. He waited 3 hours to get this haircut which he could have easily gotten a couple of days later. There was nothing wrong with his hair. At least not wrong enough to leave me alone 3 hours in the dark ( I couldn’t find the damn light switch that worked). And you know when you have energy then suddenly everything calms right down and sucks the life out of you. Being with other people and talking and getting ready with them keeps you going. But by the time A got home at 8:30 pm I was upset, had a headache, was starving, and I just had no patience anymore, and no reason to go to Earls for supper and out to the Druid.

A had brought McDonald’s home and instead of us going to Earls we ate that. Not what I

www.keno.com McDonald's :Logo
http://www.keno.com
McDonald’s :Logo

had in mind at all. He was the one so tired at the beginning of the night so we watch the New Year’s concerts in NY and I go to bed angry and yet again he leaves to go out with friends to go God knows what hours. I just really felt we were supposed to be spending New Year’s Eve together and he kept taking off and not saying anything about it.

I took the time to do my hair which takes a while to curl, dress up, and put on silver stiletto heels I knew I’d be hating in 10 minutes and I spent the night alone. I explained this to him the next day and he was like ” Some times you just talk shit, and I don’t want to talk about it.” I was really hurt and angry because communication is something he struggles with me so much. And later he won’t talk to me, hence my ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ article and then he goes back to work and I’m just like whatever I can’t focus my energy on being angry this long.

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http://www.stevewright.info

So even though I have such reservations about his communication and the fact he might just take off with his friends next time I want to go out I just forgave A and now we are talking again. Texting back and forth, as he works up North. I miss him because I usually do, and last time was such crap. So coming down off of being so upset took a lot of energy out of me and I had a tired New Years and the weekend.

Tuesday I spent at Rexall and my psychiatrists. Rexall for some odd reason I was trying to find better shaving things for A who said shaving hurt his skin. So I went to the Dove men’s section picked him up some nice shaving cream that is anti-razor burn, some moisturizer for after shaving, and some razors that have more blades on them then his little 2 blade razor so he doesn’t have to go over the same areas on his face twice. Call it part of his Christmas present I guess. There was also a brand of makeup there called The Balm that I always look at when I go there and I thought a couple of pieces of it would be a great present for my friend who has a Birthday in January. So, I picked her up an eyeshadow trio and a blush and sent it off with a card in a bubble pack in the mail. All errands done at Rexall, I went to see Dr. B.

www.woking.gov.uk
http://www.woking.gov.uk

Dr. B told me about my bloodtest results that although they did show a marker for something, that something couldn’t be identified and Dr. S the rheumotologist couldn’t identify anything for me that would out right say I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. It’s just something Dr. B and I are mostly sure of since I’ve been tested for everything else and I fit the criteria pretty well. Oh well, I can’t use the term on any medical or financial forms anyways so it doesn’t matter. It’s just one of those things that their is no expertise on in Edmontont, infact, probably around the world. And knowing that I have it forsure would change nothing. I am trying a new medication which I’m hoping actually works. It’s an antipsychotic and has less side effects then the current one I am on because it is newer. So I start that tomorrow and just hope that it helps and it isn’t a waste of a trial,

www.getpositiverevolution.com
http://www.getpositiverevolution.com

I wrote two chapter for How Was Last Night For You, I really feel the ideas and story coming together now as I write. I have lots of ideas now, I just have to see what fits and bring in some secondary characters to make the book more interesting. I am taking a Fiction course in February until May so that should be a huge help in writing a piece of fiction and I plan to write more for the book in the course and use it as my piece of fiction to work on. Hopefully, the professor likes what I’ve written as much as you guys have.

Now, it’s Friday and it’s been a slow day. So, I figured I would end the week with a ‘ What’s Up’ piece and be done with this week. The beginning really spoiled the rest of it I’m afraid. And I’m having a lot of reservations there. Instead I’ll just give myself a confidence boost with Dear Me . . .

Oh well, Happy Weekend!