time

Time doesn't heal.  Hope does.  And I have none.  What time does is make the pain ordinary.  It is now expected, if not welcome.  I can almost make it appear on command.  It's not tears, though.  Someone asked me if I cry a lot.  Almost never.  That is a sort of indication of what I have come to bear.  No, I don't cry, I just spasm with pain and wait until it dissipates.  Lately, it's been accompanied occasionally by hot flashes.  That may be just menopause coming on.  That doesn't make me sad.  In fact, my vitality makes me sad.  I can't wait for it to go.  I can't wait for that final moment when I realize - this is it, this is all of it, there will be pain no more.