three oh seven am, friday.

i wake up with my body already in motion. my leg is kicking the sheets and a loud feeling– a buzz– has overtaken my body.

the buzz is the pain.

inside my mouth, raw ulcers coat the top of my lips, the side of my tongue, the roof of my mouth, the inner cheek. 

a cold stuffs my nose so i breathe through my mouth, and the air irritates the open spaces, just enough to jolt me wide awake.

i don't know if i was asleep when i began the "fuuuuuck' but i am awake as the syllable stretches to that final 'k'. i am out of bed and in the bathroom with the magic mouthwash, a lidocaine mix that will temporarily coat this mess.

i count the hours since my last painkiller. it is not time to take another, so i will wait it out. 

yesterday Joe shook me awake because i was crying in my sleep. my cheek was hot with tears and salty as he kissed it, as he pleaded with me to tell him a way he could help.

but there are no ways, and tonight i am alone. tonight i am feeling all of it, the physical and the emotional. there is such a large loneliness in feeling something so large alone.

it is anger, what i feel. it is a sigh. it is resignation. it is knowing that i will never know a life without pain and it is self pity.

it is me saying "fuuuuuck" over and over again until i somehow find sense in all of this, a narrative. i must be feeling this for some reason.

i need to be feeling this for a reason.

for any reason. for any reason at all.