That white line that never did fade
It’s numb, the line
But underneath is pain every single day.
I was sitting on the deck
Staring mindlessly at my leg
And a fly landed right on that spot
His feet I could feel them crawl
Up and down that white line!
I couldn’t feel him when I closed my eyes
The nerves were all cut and damaged
I knew it when I first took off the bandage.
But that fly
It bothered me how long he inspected my leg
It was as if he were sure I was dead
The pain ran deep today
Did he know something I did not?
Did he think I was just left there to rot?
I finally shooed him off.
“We need to cut open your strong leg,”
The arrogant Doctor
“Whatever you say? Whatever you think is best!”
As I bowed my subservient head.
I didn’t know.
Neither did she.
That it would never heal.
Yet I chose to believe
As before her I did kneel.
She didn’t believe my symptoms at all
She did the biopsy ONLY to prove I was wrong.
Their were no apologies with the bad news.
Their were no follow ups
Just the stamp “Bill now due.”
I got a lovely photo
Of my dying muscle tissue
After 12 years no Doctor can tell me
The real cause
The real issue
I mean all along they claimed I was
“Stressed” or “Depressed” as they handed me a tissue.
All those things became true
When they destroyed my leg
Like a lab rat
They stuck me in a cage
Sent me on my way
So I sat here today
Watching the fly on my leg
What my life could have been instead
Without “you’re a mystery diagnosis”
Rumbling around my head
Oh the regret
My only regret
The fly knows
I’ve become The Walking Dead.