"Sometimes"

My body has betrayed itself.
Not completely, and
only in tiny pieces,
but enough
to make me hate it
sometimes...

I cannot feel my hands at times.
Not always, and
only when I am tired,
but enough
to make things hard to do
sometimes...

I am afraid of what happens to me.
Not often, and
only when I am alone,
but enough
to make me cry
sometimes...

But my family loves me and so do I.
Sometimes...

                        Cheryl L. Spuhler
                        5/5/97