Category Archives: Porphyria

Chap Books Are On The Way

I am in the final stages of putting together poetry chap books. Stay tuned for when they go on sale, and where to get them.

Each will have color covers, and contain 20-30 pages of poetry.



To Help Keep the Poetry Going…

Normally, I reserve this blog only for all things poetry. And I promise there is more poetry on its way.

I’m sorry for this post, but it’s become necessary to do this, not just for my personal health, but because not addressing this issue will most certainly impact my life, and my ability to continue writing.

Due to an ongoing medical condition, I was forced to leave my job back in February. Up until June, I was hanging on by the skin of my teeth with the help of family and close friends. Now, I’m facing the possibility of losing my car — my only source of reliable transportation — if I don’t come up with at least $750 before 8/15.

To press home the point of what I’m up against, I thought I’d share something a little more graphic, since I gather most people might not understand how important it is I find a way to keep my car…

Here’s a photo of my left leg, from mid-shin down, taken earlier this evening. What you see is the damage still remaining 3 years after my immune system and disease tried to destroy my ability to walk completely, by eating away at the blood vessels, tissue, nerves and bone throughout my body — most visible in my feet.

HSP Scars Left Leg - 8-9-16

The Rheumatoid Arthritis is another symptom of the widespread autoimmune disease eating away at me. All of this limits my ability to walk to practically nothing, and requires I have transportation that doesn’t mean having to walk more than a handful of feet to get to it.

This is why it is so absolutely imperative I find the support I need to keep my vehicle. Without my car, I won’t be able to leave my house, and my ability to get medical treatment, medication, and basic necessities to life will disappear. If this happens, it won’t be long until I am unable to write at all, and the rest of the eventualities are too terrifying for me to even consider, at this point.

If you’re willing to help, you can do so on the Go Fund Me page below, where my friends and family have been contributing toward the goal of paying off my car and helping remove a stress that contributes to my continued illness.

Everyone who contributes can opt to receive special gifts, as well as complete repayment of the contributed amount, as soon as I possibly can. Just be sure to leave your name and address when you donate.

If you prefer not to donate via GoFundMe, you can e-mail me at esthermitchell(at) (replace “(at)” with @) for additional options to donate.

Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. If I can keep my car, and lower my stress, I can complete books faster, which means more for you to read.

“Political Malpractice”

~Esther Mitchell, 2014~

While corporations and insurance companies,
Battle it out to see who can line more pockets,
Reorganize themselves out of the truth, out of the blame,
I lay ripped to pieces by words like “policy”, “deductible”, and “network.”
While my body tears itself apart from the inside out,
And my mind trips over itself like a landmine,
Buried around every corner with ghosts,
Someone with a pen instead of a stethoscope,
A calculator instead of a microscope,
Sifts through the ashes of my life,
Weighs the ashes, and tells me what I’m worth.
I sit here, unable to afford the help that would save my life,
Defend my sanity,
Bring me relief,
Because some rich old man,
Hides behind association with false gods,
Prays at an altar of greed disguised as benevolence,
In a white-washed marble temple of hypocrisy.
I am not a statistic,
Not yet,
But I’m liable to become one,
Because that’s what happens,
To the legions of the invisible ill,
When what’s needed to heal us, to keep us well,
is determined not by a lab coat or scrubs,
but by a fat cat in a three-piece suit.



~Esther Mitchell, 2011~

I feel the stares of disdain,

The sneers and whispers you think so hidden,

Because you’ve never experienced my pain,

Or tried to understand my fear.

I’m barred from normal life,

And you’ve walled me from inclusion,

You’ve wounded me with your comments,

And forced me into despairing seclusion.

I have no choice in this pain I suffer,

I never got to decide,

It arrived with me in this world, this life,

And it’s eating me from the inside.

You might not like the inconvenience,

But it’s ten times worse for me,

For what you see as a nuisance,

Is steadily killing me.

So try a little compassion,

And quit burying your head in the sand,

Because I’m not the only ill person,

Whose presence you’ll ever have to withstand.

Purple Ribbon


~Esther Mitchell, 2011~

I cry myself to sleep at night,
tears muffled by my pillow;
I fear the sleep in which I once found solace,
Afraid I might not wake tomorrow.

I cry myself awake each morning,
Never sure if it’s relief, or pain;
I bury all I feel behind a mask,
Knowing others don’t want reminders of my pain.

Yet, tears are my constant companion,
though never what gets me through the day;
Only hope and belief that there’s a reason,
Give me the strength to fight, to stay.

When you mock or berate me,
for the pain and fear with which I live,
You take away my hope,
and demand so much more than I can give.

Don’t judge what you don’t understand,
Or think all’s well just because I don’t let you see;
Behind this mask pain and fear bid me to wear,
You’ll find there’s so much more I want to be.

There are thousands of people living with what are known as Invisible Diseases – Diseases that rob them of the daily life functions most people take for granted. Yet, rather than receiving the compassion directed toward people whose illnesses and disabilities are more obvious, people suffering from Invisible Diseases are more often ridiculed, looked down on, talked down to, or treated deplorably because they don’t “look sick.”

As someone who suffers from an Invisible Disease, I have first-hand experience with this treatment, and it’s become part of my mission in life to spread awareness about Invisible Disease and learning to understand others, rather than just judging on what you see.

Brief Acknowledgement and Thanks

This isn’t a poem… But I wanted to take just a moment and thank everyone for your interest in my poetry. Your support and interest is heart warming and very much appreciated!

Thank you!