In a Coat of Pain
I’ve knocked on every door of medicine men—
doors painted with hope.
Swallowed pills of every size and colour.
Been told,
“This one never fails.”
Another promise—
fulfilled only in disappointment.
The body that once felt mine
now feels like a stranger’s—
still wearing my name tag.
I sleep early,
trying to rinse myself from pain,
but wake up
still dressed in it.
The coat I wear?
Pain-stitched—
by a tailor who graduated
from the school of suffering.
The smiles you see are plastic.
Built to trick the pain.
To reassure the guardian
sitting quietly in the corner
pretending not to notice
the storm I’m in.
My calendar?
Full of appointments...
and disappointments.
The Cost They Don’t Count
Medical bills grow
like small hills in the valley—
but never heal.
Budgets collapse
while symptoms stack.
And Then… the Silence
Friends fade.
Even those that once loved loud—
go quiet.
Even the ones at my bedside
steal a gaze,
but say nothing.
To the Caregiver—
I see you.
You give without asking back.
Your strength—
irreplaceable.
Your love—
unmatched.
Your smile—
illuminating.
And yet,
I know…
your silence carries
its own invisible scars.
And Still… I Carry Hope
Hope—
that married faith
and gave birth to victory.
So if you see me—
don’t just see the illness.
See the war I fight
just to exist.
By Davie Kaliu
Copyright © Davie Kaliu | Year Posted 2025
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