I care, I do, I care so much that I'm just waiting, For someone to tell me That it is not exactly just the same, The same as anyone else •

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But today it still works, like I still am alive and today it hurts, like everyday, but maybe slightly worse and tomorrow I'm going to this place again where those with authority will scoff me for not coming earlier, for waiting and not caring

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There's a puzzle piece missing, leaving a hole in the whole, aside from the rest of it, hanging by a thread, the puzzle piece feels heavy It feels as if my arm will die, tomorrow Maybe it has, already

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If the pain means I'm listened to, I will take it. I already do. Waiting for, someone, to validate it is fully out of its place. It has happened already. Friends, Colleagues, Pharmacists, and even a Nurse could see it without even touching it.

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My shoulder is not in its place, it popped out of its socked. I don't really, care that it did. I just think of the internist that has told me, none of my bone, aside from my right knee, would ever dislocate. "You are not hypermobile." Am I not? I can bend my body the same way I can with my mind.

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