National Poetry Month: Operation: Annihilate!

Operation: Annihilate

Part 1: Pain is of the Mind

Pain is of the mind. The mind can be controlled.
That is what I tell myself as the creature sends a stab of agony
across my body—
Pain is of the mind. The mind can be controlled.
And yet, I feel that I would willingly,
happily, die
just to be free of the pain—there is no escape.

Pain is of the mind. The mind can be controlled.
It is the only clear thought, the line that grounds me,
in a sea of …please, I would do anything—
No. No, what have I done?

Pain is of the mind. The mind can be controlled.
Send me down to the planet, don’t you understand?
Nothing could be worse than this. They can hurt me no more
than they do already. At least I can help, before
the inevitable end.

Pain is of the mind. The mind…
what is the use? I let myself float in agony,
welcome it—because there is nothing else I can do—
my mind is foggy, and I can concentrate on only the pain,
it consumes my being.

Pain is of the mind. The mind can be controlled.
It is a mantra, which I repeat, because if I say it, I will not hurt.
That is all I can do—lie to myself, say this, and you’ll feel better.
It works. As much as anything.

Pain is of the mind. The mind can be controlled.
That is what they think. They think I am in control,
when I succumbed to it long ago.
I go through the motions, because
because I have to. There is nothing left

Pain is of the mind. The mind can be controlled.
The Doctor isn’t fooled, and yet I can’t find it within myself to care.

Pain is of the mind.

The mind can be controlled.

Part 2: Revenge

We watch as the creature shrivels into nothing
and even though I long ago stopped thinking
I feel a burst of life—too twisted to be called happiness—
as the thing dies. Perhaps, if it was not punishing me
so that I can hardly stand,
so that a human would long ago have been crying on the floor
curled up
and even a Vulcan would be sitting, staring at the ground, trying to meditate
and failing—perhaps then I would feel something for this life
snuffed out
other than pleasure.
It is evil of me,
and yet I can’t be
bothered
to care.

Part 3: An Equitable Trade

I can see their worried faces,
they know—we all know—what will probably happen.
But they don’t know that right now,
blindness
would be an equitable trade
to be free of the pain.
I have forgotten what it feels like
not to be in pain.

Part 4: A Not-So Equitable Trade

For a moment, I do nothing but lie there
luxuriating
in the fact
that I can relax
it is heaven.
Finally, I open my eyes.
As I thought—I can see nothing.
Soon, I will regret the loss,
but now, I can do no more than note it with interest.
Kaiidth.
I hear the Doctor and Jim at the door,
in my mind, I can picture their worried faces.
I get up, and walk forward.
I make it out of the door and across the room
before I collide with a desk.
I can hear the startled horror in Jim’s voice
as I tell them the truth.
And I can see
that they do not believe it is
‘an equitable trade’.

Part 5: All Right

I can perceive much of my surroundings
my hearing can place anyone in the room with accuracy
it is the things which are the most frustrating.

Also, the pity. It has been hardly a day
and yet everyone seems to have heard what happened.
At least I can use the excuse of ‘acclimating’
to send them away, so I can be alone.

The Doctor is the worst.
He feels guilty, and it does not take eyes
to sense it on him every time he is near me.
Unfortunately, that is quite often.

He will not look at the situation logically.
It is not his fault…not any more than it was mine…
or the captain’s. But he will not see it like that.

It is a strange feeling, I have discovered.
I may pretend that all is well, but it is not.
Right now, it does not feel as if things will ever be
‘all right.’

Part 6: Surprise

Doctor McCoy is bending over me
when I suddenly see
a blue shape.
In my surprise, I say nothing.
I look up.
The shape is clearer now.
It is Doctor McCoy, bending over me.

Part 7: Sight

“I can see,” I announce.
The Doctor looks at me.
I look at him.
Right now, he seems
the most wondrous sight
in the world.

Part 8: Relief  (optional. I wanted a happy ending, but I couldn't get it to sound right.)

All is back to normal, and
I am secretly relieved.
Normality aboard this ship,
this home; and safety in it.
My friends will joke
and I will never tell them...
what no one needs to know.
All is well.

-Noelle

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
 Operation: Annihilate!
(from the point of view of Dr. McCoy)
 
If we put it in the light, it dies!
So lets just put Mr. Spock under the light,
and he'll be cured!
Oh no!
It was to bright for his eyes!
Now Mr. Spock is... blind.
I could have done it with ultra violet , but I didn't think-
What's that Spock?
Your starting to see?
Vulcan inner eyelids?
Why, you never told me!

-Joie