I've actually gotten much worse it seems,
Since taking hold of other dreams,
You see,  my friend, I've gone quite mad,
Each hour...a dream I never had.
No, the sun is real, it always shows
See it or not, it comes and goes
Like me, of somewhat fickle lot
Perfect! All perfect! Until it's not.
By another's, or by my own hand,
Way too irrational to understand
And so my mind just flits around
Like cottonwood petals on the ground
And nothing is as it should be
Minutes filled so frantically
One dream recurs, (my guilty sin),
Two souls become just one again.

The only one who prioritized me
Never even existed
What do you do with that?
Chew on it.

Failure to thrive they call it
Its just an umbrella code they give
To those of us whose bodies
Don't want to let us live
It's the last resort diagnosis
After all of the tests are done,
Every possible cause ruled out,
Every theory disproven, every one.
Its when you lose a little less than half
Of your entire self within a year
Somehow, others think you look ok
Not too much worse for wear
But by year two they recognize
You look less and less alive
No reason, no cure,  no treatment
Its just a ******* failure to thrive.
Trust me, it's a pivotal moment
When you hear it said
Not even half a decade old
At half a decade I'll be dead.
But I feel it (as if touched) I feel it
My body, brain, and soul go slow
I am dying, every part, altogether
And from what I'll never know.

When we meet on the other side
When chaotic thoughts have flown
We will love with such a clarity
This world has never known.

Enough of will to hold the words
Not enough to hold the tears
Enough of doubt to stay removed
Not enough to forget years
Enough of pain to stop the heart
Not enough to still the head
Enough of hope to keep on breathing
Not enough to raise the dead.