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Within the Dead Place West Texas tornadoes strike 365 days in a year in black holes of my brain. Legions of Thunder Clouds are shadows, covering broken bodies, lives, emotions, despair when no one knows – except my body. In the season of my autumn and within the dark side of my Super Moon, I’m in the era of my life, struggling with challenges when people don’t understand, and never will. Am I different than most MS survivors? I hope others do the same: I kick the cowboy boot

Calm is is key, Anger the enemy, Pride a distraction. Andrew Traill

HE SUFFERS SUCH PAIN BUT HARDLY COMPLAINS HIS WIT IS SHARP AND HE JOKES AGAIN AND AGAIN YOU CAN SEE HIS

No, silly goose. This is not an actual five-year-old little boy writing about his Mommy who has M.S.
 But what if I were? What would I say about her? Would I tell you that to me, she’s just Mom?
The Mommy I’ve always known and grow to learn more about each day? Or… would I tell you that sometimes she moves a little slower, or needs to sit down when other moms don’t? That sometimes she says, “Mommy’s legs feel funny today,” and I don’t totally understand what that means - but

You’re the Flake in my ice cream Clotted cream on my scone Gemstones in my rings and things Games on my phone Bubbles in my bathtub Gloss on my lips Star in my midnight sky Vinegar on my chips Happiest of birthdays Drew This is what I needed to say You paint my ordinary world So much brighter every day Happy Birthday. Julie Wickens.

A contradiction— I am; live inside of any box, b/c there are no boxes-- I don’t; explain anything to you people b/c y’all are living within your comfort zone-- I can’t; to walk on the straight line— I refuse; structures that define me— I destroy; a contradiction— I am; be what“ they” want me to be— I won’t; to hell— y’all go. Contradiction. Daryl Halencak

She is hungry today. Her skirts are swirling, blue green, frills of lace. Sometimes she appears angry and sometimes calm, always deceiving. She spots the boy, red jumper, blue shorts, running, running. But he can never escape her once she has decided. She increases her speed, watching watching. For a moment it seems as if he will break free. But she reaches out with her icy white fingers and captures him. Within seconds he is gone, no red against the blue green and white. The

All I can say is – “I will live another day stay away , Devil” I wonder if my funeral homily will be written just about MS: crippled fingers – eyes barely focus – impossible balance issues- can’ t type very well. Still, I ain’t dead yet because my psyche tells me, “I think; therefore, I exist.” I can scribble poetic words from a brain with black lesions and holes, struggle with my dark autoimmunity disease with damnable muscle wasting - slow - cognitive abilities. I wonder if

It all started approximately March 2006, I started feeling dizzy (drunk feeling 24/7, no need to go out with mates to drink, I felt drunk without drinking). My left hand began to go numb and my co-ordination to the left hand was slacking. I went to my GP and had blood tests and my weight checked. He said: "it may be down to your weight (23 stones 4lbs), cholesterol and smoking" From my blood tests, he said: "it looks as if you smoke 40 a day" Which was give or take 5 cigarett

You hear my voice, You see me smile, You think it's not that bad. Inside I'm screaming, Inside I'm arguing, Inside I'm crying. But I won't show as I don't want you to worry. I may stumble, I may forget, Setting a time is setting regret. This is me A new me and It's not coz I'm going to the gym, It's not coz of a new year resolution. I have been forced into these changes, I smile to reassure you that I'm O K You hear my voice, You see my smile. Stefano Cimmino

Now that my words are written down on paper, black and white, someday you may decide that what I've written isn't right. Opinions aren't like words two can never be the same, but if your opinions are written down, they can be heard again. Even though nobody's talking, the words can still be read, so write them down and then we'll know exactly what you said. Fame part 2. K.MacDonald

This ones about a guinea pig and his name was clive, hed sit upon my shoulder when id go out for a drive. Id stroke him id brush him i even cleaned his poo (thats all part of pet ownership) youll have to do that too. One thing about clive he was always malting, I really didnt mind but my kids found it revolting. I loved him More, than you could have even guessed hed calm me down, when i was feeling stressed But One day i had, the most awful suprise clive had stopped mov

My life has changed From great to good Then from good to challenging The challenges became day to day Then hour to hour And minute to minute My challenges began to break me My days became a mystery Not knowing what may come The future became a question Every day was different not knowing What is next to come Day to day may be a mystery Yet I push on to enjoy life Life is good and within your hands So, make it good. Life and MS. Michael Russell.

Growing up life was an open canvas Each day was yours to create Tomorrow began new adventures Adventures after exciting adventures Your canvas changed as your thoughts changed Yet Life was an exciting ever-changing journey New experience after a new experience Life is good and ever changing Then today became another day after another day Life had changed for the better or the worse Yet life moves on day after day Life’s exciting adventures turned into another day As my abilit

I was diagnosed with Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis in December 2009, what did that mean then for me? I decided to try fitness, that worked for me, I decided to train to become a personal trainer and an instructor too, I was made redundant in June 2016, what did that mean then for me? I tried to work in the fitness industry, that didn't work then for me, I was Certified Visually Impaired in 2021, what did that mean then for me! I was registered blind in November 2024,

You took my strength, You took my balance, You took my confidence, And you take my vision when you want. You've created challenges, You've created regrets, You've created thoughts, That I can't forget. You took. stefano cimmino.

There was once a lad in a cap, He used to say poetry was crap, He then discovered words could explain pain in a verse, And that was the end of that. Lad in a cap. Robert Gillett

These are your thoughts Write your happy thoughts, Write your sad thoughts, Your thoughts, For you. The thought of the day, The thought of the week, Your thoughts of the world, Your thoughts for only you to see. Your Thoughts. Robert Gillett

I never set out to be a writer. I didn’t sit there dreaming of books or stages or strangers listening to my truth. I was just trying to survive. Trying to escape the chaos in my head, Put pain into something that made a bit more sense. At first, it was random thoughts, Written between random symptoms, Between different moods, Between moments I nearly gave up. It wasn’t polished. Wasn’t supposed to be poetic. It just needed to be real. And somehow… that mattered. People listen

Sometimes, the first signs of MS don’t shout, they whisper. For Matthew Price, it started during what should’ve been a normal night out with his family. “During the movie, my face felt droopy. When we got to the car, I asked my wife Rebecca to look at it. She agreed it did look like one side was drooping a bit. I was a little concerned, but by the next day, it had resolved,” recalls the 56-year-old from Spring Hill, TN. Like most of us would, he booked an appointment just to