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Diana M. Hernández

chronic pain, Guest Posts

Dear Pain

October 6, 2020
pain

By Diana M. Hernández
That’s you, looming over my thoughts

My movements

My day

My life

I hate you

I really do

People say, “think positive.”

Have they known this pain?

Would they still shit rainbows

If they woke up to this every day?

For years and counting

I’ve hit rock bottom

Times where I thought it would be best

To end it all.

I’m no longer in that dark place

But DAMN I get really frustrated

I have really good weeks

I get a taste of what my life was

Then I’m hit

Days of never-ending

Pulsating

Throbbing

Stabbing

Torture

Radiating from my back

Up to the top of my head

Bleeding into my mood

Blurring it all

I don’t think I’ve hated anyone

As much as I do you

But wait

My son hates you the most

He’s growing up

Knowing pain

Seeing pain

Daily

On the face of his mother

On the body of his mother

He stopped asking me to play

A long time ago

“Momma…

When you die…”

He’ll frequently wonder

Out loud

He is six years old

He should not worry about death

His family drawings

Depict me in bed

“Will you be healthy one day?”

“So that we can play?”

I want with all my heart

To tell him that I will

But I would be lying

So, I nod my head and smile

“You look so beautiful…”

“When you smile…”

I realize then

My child

Isn’t used to seeing me smile

He grew up

Seeing pain every day

On his mother

Dear Pain

Fuck you to eternity

Diana M. Hernández is a mother and graduate student at the University of Texas at Austin where she is specializing in Historic Preservation. She is from Missouri City, Texas and currently holds an M.A. in Spanish Language, Literature and Culture from the University of Houston. 

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