A poem by Nicole Where should I begin, how about using hot pads so hot they actually burn my skin. Swallowing painkillers until my thoughts turn hazy, still the pain cuts through — sharp, deep, and crazy. Days disappear as I’m trapped in my bed, silent screams echo loud in my head. But this pain isn’t something that just began, it’s a constant shadow — a curse I never planned. For years I’ve been fighting this invisible thief, stealing my joy, my strength, my relief. One in
