Ill

A lament of chronic illness

I shouldn't say it too loudly
I'll keep it a whisper
I don't think I'll ever
Have someone love me devoutly

Who would?
Want to hold my hand when I struggle to walk?
Hold my hair while I vomit as I try to talk?
Hold my heart when it pumps too slowly?

The chronic conditions
Makes pain a continuation
that hinder my provisions
Across this saga that unfolds
In the pages of "after visit summaries"
Friends find between the seats my car holds
Along with all my memories
Of joy and agony through these journeys

My secrets unravel
When I text,
"I can't make it"
again

All I've ever wanted
Is to make it
Again
But those words are haunted

Instead, I collect all the rest that I steal
Hopefully, then, the sleep will help me to heal
The wounds in the very fiber of my being
Where the strings were pulled too taught
And caught when I was fleeing
And cut
W th
T e
Hi tory
I'm
Ble ding

"Time heals all wounds",
I hear them say
How long, then, should I stay?
And wait in these rooms?

Author's Note

What was your last trip to the hospital?