She goes about her days
Covering the lines on her wrist
The marks left by her illness
Its manifestation on her skin

She swallows some tablets
Cause they might help
Maybe something will feel better
And she can get out of her rut

But it would seem
The world around her grows dark
Her vision of a future blurs
Distorts and fades

The days before her are dark
They’re full of fear and suffering
She can’t hope for better days
She can’t pray anymore

She’s at the mercy of her disease
Being crushed under its weight
Surrendered to its power
Alone, ill, and injured

She dreads the days ahead
She hates the fact of her life
She’d rather she was gone
She’d really rather be gone