My skin is covered in tattoos.
They're fiery red and constantly changing, like flickering flames.
They tell the story of where I've been and they hint at where I'm going.
My tattoos are what Buddhists call dukkha.
They represent suffering, but through that suffering, they provide fuel to kindle the flames of my spirit.
I didn't choose these tattoos, they chose me.
It isn't easy being marked in this way and sometimes the rashes make people stare.
But I'm grateful that they are there.
As the tattoos on my body wax and wane, brimming with the threat of relapse, they remind me to live every moment as if it is my last.
This poem is perfectly wonderful. I have CTCL and I wish I could have looked at it this way instead of being depressed about it. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteP.S. Can I post it on my blog (with credit to you, of course).
ReplyDeleteHi Joanna. Thanks for the feedback - it's especially important to me coming someone who also has CTCL. I would be very flattered if you posted it on your blog.
ReplyDeleteGraham, I also have CTCL and your poem definitely put a smile on my face this morning. I run an online support group for CTCL and really like your attitude! Judy
ReplyDeleteGraham, you continue to inspire and make me realise how lucky I am to enjoy good health.
ReplyDeleteThank you,
David