His white, wool shirts hang in the closet
I count them like sheep
To put my heart to rest

Our eyes lock, our lips lock, our legs lock, we become completely undone.

And even when it is over
He nestles his head against my chest
I run my hands along the grooves in his muscles

We are inseparable
(Who knew something so lovely could be in two places at once)

To think that for six continuous months
He has been mine and I have been his

i. we flew to a foreign country
We paid for over-priced sunscreen to "save the environment"
And we laughed as we paid $15 for something we'd only use once
Swam with dolphins and didn't have enough money to buy the pictures in the end.
But we had experienced it with each other and it really didnt matter.

ii. two am in the emergency room
He was wearing the hospital gown that makes your **** hang out
And it wasn't funny until after his kidney stone had passed
And we knew it was going to be okay

He and I have been through car problems, job searches, *** meltdowns, misunderstandings, laughter, love, and happiness.

See--

You and I
had moments
He and I
live moment to moment.

Trying not to be
A grump over something as
Small as sandwiches.

I will leave lipstick stains on the glasses
When you try to get drunk you will still remember me.

i
secretly
loved
a
wookie.

(the most thought-provoking thing in the world is a soul--)

skin cracks
mud ***** on his feet
shuffles when he moves
barely hanging on
so thin

dry, rough
the skin breaks
but does not bleed

he is rusty
flakes off slowly

he could tell me that he's gone mad
that it's a slow and painful way to go
could say he cannot handle the itch
drives him to hysteria
can't i take him out of his misery

and i would,
but i won't

(that is not dying,
but growing)

You cut off my hands
You broke my brittle, blackened body to bits, searching
The hands of a healer.

I felt nothing.

The nerve endings no longer crawled with static
Worms dried out in the sun
Lumpy, hollowed tunnels where the monarchs would fly
Now concave, the ceiling falling in, my spirit in disrepair

You grounded me
When you had every reason to bury my remains
But what little life I had took root, worked its way around your wrists
Lazily laced the veins in your arms with the vines

Months to nurse me back to health
Now
Flourishing after the fire.

You will ask me where it hurts
Like I can point to a map and say
There
That is where depression slipped a bag over my head and made off with the sunshine that I carried in my pocket.

You will ask me why it hurts
Like I can say
Well,
At 3:00 pm this afternoon, I was sitting in traffic, minding my own business, when Anxiety cut in front of me. I slammed on the brakes to avoid a collision. I've had pains in my neck all evening from whiplash.

You will put on white gloves, want to examine me and fix it.
I will let you listen to my heartbeat with a stethescope.
You can put a popsicle on my tongue and I can say, "I'm fine. It's fine."

Because the pain isn't tangible.
And nothing seems wrong.

I could demand an x-ray
And you would see the bones of a perfectly structured life
A house
A job
A family
A purpose
A white picket fence of a ribcage to match those pearly whites I flash for show, because

I don't know where or what is  hurting
(I can just tell that it hurts)

I suffer from failure
Well
What kind of failure?
You would ask.
Liver failure, heart failure, kidney failure-
No

Something inside me has gone out
I'm still walking
Still seeing
Breathing
Dreaming

But the light is gone

Somewhere between my chest and my head, a wire's been cut
The power is dead
I know that as long as my spinal cord is intact, a current is running

But where is my present self?
Why do I feel like I'm dragging, slowing, sitting down until someone finds me

Illness consumes me.