Cambodian Spell – Poem by Chloe Passey December 2014
This poem was written during our stay in Battambang in Cambodia. Myself and my partner had reached an all time low after bouts of food poisoning and sickness, ending up stuck in a bed in a crappy room at a guesthouse. Enough time has passed now in order to not worry the mum for me to post this 😉 (I was OK…really!) Although I have no regrets at all, for without being ill, I would have not been inspired to write this poem.
Thank you dodgey water! I never thought I would be saying that a few months ago!
Oh and please, even though we were ill…. Never let it put anyone off travelling to Cambodia! For every temple, elephant and cave was worth every second and I would go back and do it all over again!
I feel ill my bones are weak,
It’s so much effort to stand on my feet.
The stomach turns, it spins and bloats,
My face starts to look like a skinny old goat.
My mind is tired, blank space between the eyes,
Eating food has no joy, only a means to survive.
The waist it indents, the ribs like a cage,
The bars are apparent , like lines on a page.
It’s hard to eat, the food I don’t trust,
But eating is key, pushing through is a must.
The water I drink, is it pure?
Can the sickness we are feeling have a cure?
I ask myself this, is it all in your head?
Should I be trusting the sweet tasting bread?
Anxiety, it has it’s twisting ways,
Consuming and controlling most of your days.
Release the tension , the feelings of unwell.
Choose to release from the Cambodian spell.
Pick up those legs, look after each other.
Feed off the love and support of your mother.
Keep moving on, time will heal.
Your body although strong is not made from steel.
Take time to rest, recoup and revive.
Soon you will have more steps in your stride.
A poem will always allow you to try
To dig a little deeper, to open your eyes.
Time to listen to your own advice.
Don’t turn into the three blind mice.
Onwards and upwards you go from here.
Shun that illness and with it the fear.