A Poem for the Lonely Flares

It is easy to feel alone in a flare. Oftentimes, no one is home but me and my cats. A severe flareup can often last a week, stuck barely able to get from my bed to my bathroom.

When you first get sick, everyone sends you “get well” cards and flowers. As the days, weeks, months go on, people begin to forget. They stop inviting you out because you never say yes. They move on while life stays the same for you…

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Maggie Bowyer

Maggie Bowyer

Freelance writer. UNGODLY, WHEN I BLEED: POEMS ABOUT ENDOMETRIOSIS and more