Did you really think I could live with this?
Even though you didn’t protect me,
I trusted you.
Welcomed you with open legs,
And as your warm hand shook mine,
I could tell something was wrong.
My skin complexion became three words,
S.T.D.
Muscle aches and pains contracted from top,
To bottom.
No cure.
Everyday I have outbreaks,
Knowing that I can’t break out of this disease.
Burning leads to the nerve paths of my discharge.
****,
Began to ooze out like the secret you never told me.
Unlike you,
I was itching to try and make it go away,
But the itching turned into torn blisters.
Can’t cover up that disgusting smell,
Because if I do, it will only get worse.
Not that it was getting better.
These blue and yellow conversation bumps will never go away,
They just keep talking.
I trusted you.
But you only wanted me for your special needs.
Now I’m in an episode of symptoms
That keeps repeating every time I breathe.
Lungs, feel like hands that turned into swollen glands,
Squeezing,
Until it moves down to my stomach,
Causing me to throw up your guilt.
I should have known something was up when you refused to go get tested.
April 30, 2008,
I’m diagnosed with ******.