The Weasel


The Weasel
by Brenda Surin

Do you understand it hurts me
when you do not hear my pain
How the loneliness envelopes me
because I cry in vain
I did not ask for Chiari
it found me on its own
And though I try to fight it
sometimes it overwhelms

So I snap and say something mean
Then hide my face in shame
Wishing I was stronger
A warrior brave and bold

On a good day I try to
join the fun

and laugh

and love

and hug


Chiari is a weasel who
comes looking for it’s due
Punishing me for trying to live
as only normals should

It chews my head
claws my stomach
places spikes into my feet
The nasty little horror screeches –
“you can never ME escape!”

So … I hide from the world –from you
a burden not to be

For it only seems to crush me more
when your disappointment I can see


Copyright © 2016 Brenda L. Surin. All Rights Reserved.

This entry was posted in Chiari Malformation, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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