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Rhino virus in my flesh
My right knee has bursitis
Aching body, stuffy head
Hip to toe arthritis!

I've been slowly going deaf
Bad teeth in my mouth
I'm a "Rice Krispies" critter
My plumbing's going south!

I need a new body!
NOT the one I own!
I've dry-rot in my muscles
And acid in the bone!

What CAN make me joyous
When I'm in such pain?
Who is my umbrella
While I'm dancing in the rain?
I think you know the answer
But I'll repeat again...

Don't find it strange I'm happy!
No, don't find it odd!
I have a gracious Savior...

Jesus Christ's my God!
The litmus test for the value of a faith, I believe, is how you can handle trials in one's life. I should feel REALLY rotten... but instead I have joy!! Hallelujah!! ♡♡♡
___ , last night I dreamed of your dream.

I saw you on a New York street. Just like it would never happen. When we hugged, I told you “I think about you every day”. “Of course” you thought. You are sick.

I went to your show and brought you flowers. Roses - why. The weight will break her. Daises would have been enough. But I couldn’t help myself.

The curtain - then there you were. In the middle - of all places. A lucid dream of white streaked/blonde hair. Floating like you belonged. No question.  

“Wow” A real celebrity. I wonder if she fixed her hip? I wonder how they covered up that tiny scar? Makeup? Or am I too far away now to see.? Wow. A real celebrity. “And I know her.”

The dressing room. Misstepped roses in hand. Just like every time - the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I had never met another human like that. I sat down. I cried.  I couldn’t help it. She did not. She looked down at it - sad.

Tonight I dreamed of your dream. Just like it would never happen.

Why not mine?
Sara M Aug 29
We’re not entirely sure, you’ll need to come back.
The letter resting in the dark caverns of the metal mailbox waits,
Waits to scream, to taunt.
You’ll need to come back, and maybe,
Just maybe, if you’re one of the lucky ones,
You’ll get to stay, keep us company,
It gets ever so lonely, here in this room,
Where cold tile floods, and plasticky lights
Introduce long lost friends, fear, who mingles, dancing with pain.
Room 341, the stay you’ll never forget,
A tantalizing visit, leaving you with all but a tinge of regret,
A small morsel of remorse.
Tea Aug 15
Death doesn't have a story but a song...
It can be very short or very long...
It's agonizing and painful...
And its rests are quiet and dull...
Many know the different melodies of sickness...
She, so powerful, in her grieving-dress...
Pain, not far behind in her footsteps that hollows...
Hated and cursed are they, along with death that sometimes follows...
There is no place where the song isn't found...
Terrified, are many, of the sound...
Healing, doing her job, trying to ease...
But not everyone is she to please...
She is not always allowed to stop the notes and the song...
She must obey and not go wrong...
All of these are under command...
Death, sickness, pain, healing, are all under higher hand...
Don't wish for any of them to go away...
What will happen if they don't stay?
They must continue to teach me and you...
Think about it for a minute or two...
Hey there! I have never shared any of my rhymes with anyone except close friends. But now I have finally decided to share them with you. Please excuse any typos or grammatical errors. I hope you have an awesome day further!
LK Aug 2
So what then is it really that can make one wish that they were dead?
It’s a hopelessly, lonely feeling that dominates our heads.

It’s when we can’t begin to find a single starting spot,
to explain to those around us the deadly disease we’ve got.

How do we explain we’re on the verge of death,
when the virus that infects us is as visible as breath?

Completely unseen but a smudge upon a mirror,
it’s creeping up behind you, becoming ever nearer.

People are not prepared, unlike a sickness diagnosis,
no, this creeps up on them one sudden day, unnoticed.

If a doctor could only give you the number of days that we had left,
you’d probably take us out of school, we’d travel, decompress.

You’d maybe even save a life if you took the time to consider,
we are slowly wasting away from hope, or instead, you’ll be a killer.
Carl D'Souza Jul 29
that my body will probably become sick
into the future,
and preparing myself
to experience the sickness
and improve my health,
brings me peace of mind.
icarus Jul 24
inside my professor's mailbox is
a blue journal.
  his stomach is turning on the red eye to California.
in the spring i make an A
from 150 pages of longing for a ghost.
inside of me at 5, there were
pinworms gnawing,
ropes of curled tails squirming around
  some gnarled beads coated
  in rust
and i cried opals on the nights i could hear them chew
right through.
inside of me were dreams of nothing.
a darkness does welcome me into a world of the unknown. its hands bound so tightly around my fragile wrists, they snap with grace and ease, painlessly. whilst dragging me too quickly for me to catch my step, its hands move to my shoulders, tautening its grip with unspeakable force. i feel the crush of my once in-tact bones.  fear growing inside me, the anxiety ridden heat bubbling its way from my stomach to my throat. exiting silently, my mouth wider than my eyes, i cannot voice my wishing for it to stop. in my ear is an unmistakably familiar voice assuring me of my fate. she tells me i will not escape, for this is an eternal hell ive become infected with. hell, a sickness? rather than a place for the ******? the skin on my knees has taken a leave of absence. permanently, perhaps. the sensation of rock filing against my poor, young bones should feel as a fire eating at my body. howbeit, i feel nothing. is it so-? is this is not a dream, my unconsciousness protecting me from the torture i do endure as we speak?
a draft , from me to you.
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