The Song my feet make
At 21 years old, a sudden spine injury completely flipped my world upside down. I have never considered myself a writer, but the sheer anger, grief, and confusion forced me to put pen on paper for the first time. I wanted to share this poem to process what I’m going though, but also in the hope that anyone else dealing with sudden trauma, chronic pain, or isolation reads this and knows they aren’t alone in the dark.
***
I can feel the breeze on my face,
the sweat dripping down my shirt.
The smell of fresh cut grass,
the song my feet make every step I take.
Everything is perfect,
except is isn’t.
I no longer smell it,
no longer can I hear the song.
I now only feel anger.
No sweat, but burning instead.
No grass, just tasteless pills.
A new song, but a wrong melody.
No, it isn’t perfect.
So I close my eyes
to feel the breeze again.
…….
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Posted Aug 12, 2026, 3:19 AM UTC