Zebra Seeking Spoons

I wake each morning not with a yawn 

But with a question: 

What can my body tolerate today?

Ten spoons

Maybe less 

So what to keep

What to skip

How to decide

A shower costs me maybe two

Eating another lost

Can I write today? Can I text a friend?

Each choice must be given careful thought.

There’s days I seem full of life

You see me laugh

I seem great

But I’ve been planning and hoarding spoons for days to enjoy my time with you 

No moment comes without its price,

Each action carved from sacrifice.

And I’ll be in bed for days as penance 

I’d love to dance, sing, play at will

leave this damn math behind

But this is how I make it through—

A life measuring  and allotting spoons 

So if I say I can’t today,

It’s true

The dishwasher is full

And the silverware drawer is empty

But I’ll be back as soon as possible 

Believe me I want nothing more 

Than a life free of any and all silverware