A Poem, By Rachel (Fibro-Girl’s Fibromyalgia)

My evil heart brims with hatred.

Upon Fibro-Girl and all who surround her, I tread

Heavily with my fat, smelly feet

Such that I shall never be beat

I pummel Fibro-Girl with glee

And Fibro-Girl hollers, “Leave me be!”

But all can certainly hear my laughter

Or so I assume, for you see

You should know I’m insane, before as well as hereafter.

I am not a poet

Nor is Fibro-Girl, ya know it!

Neither she nor I

Has taken a poetry course

And that is probably why

This poem lacks poetic force.

I’m not sure that “force” made sense in the above stanza

But I used it anyway, because it rhymed with “course,” bonanza.

There I did it again.

I think this poem fizzled when

I got all meta-poetic

So I think it’s now time for this poem to end, and thus it won’t be very epic.

Important Message from Fibro-Girl:

Please don’t like Rachel (my fibromyalgia).  Please remember that she is evil, and not the good, fun, oppressed, deserving-of-pity, or misunderstood kind of evil, but the psychopathically evil kind of evil.  If there is anything positive about Rachel, it was really me, Fibro-Girl.  Naming my fibromyalgia carries the risk of making her/it likable, so please be careful and don’t do that.  Thanks! :-)

Love,

~Fibro-Girl