Routine

Violins play from my phone

I breathe in time

I hate this part of the week

but this must be done

 

I disinfect the area

ready a second swab if needed

Pull the cap from the injection pen

and rest it on my thigh

 

I breathe in

grip soft fabric

and press down

healing fire fills my leg as I moan

 

I hold it down

count

then examine the leg

for bleeding from the injection site

 

I sit

stare

sigh

and dispose of the pen

One thought on “Routine

  1. I found this poem to be very poignant and heart-wrenching. Even the title is ironic…what is routine for you in this poem is anything but routine nd normal. I love the dichotomy between the violins playing the the injection. Vivid!

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