When I was only comfortable while running

My mind beaten into submission

     By the piston thrust of my legs

     By my feet slapping the earth

     By my lungs burning and straining

          To deliver oxygen to my muscles

     By the moisture wringing from every pore

          From every breath

That has been taken from me

There was a time

When the words would not be quiet

When the voices would not stop

When the ideas would not leave me alone

When to NOT write was torture

When I felt I must physically burst

     With the pressure of the unexpressed

That has been taken from me

There was a time

When I had purpose, and drive, and initiative

There was a time

When every breath was linked to a thought

There was a time

When all the world was a wonder

     Sometimes lovely

     Sometimes horrible

     Always strange

     And begging to be explored

There was a time

When I cared, when I had to FIGHT

There was a time

That has all been taken from me

I still have thoughts

There are still irrepressible voices

I still breath

But it is all thrust upon me 

     Unguided and directionless

     Unbidden and senseless

There was a time

When I was alive

     And not merely living

And there might have been a sense of desperation

But there was likewise a sense of control

     However tenuous

That has been taken from me