An Insidious Illness

An Insidious Illness

I stare through the TV as if it is a window

I write and it is all wrong

Depleted putting up dishes

Intolerant to the pain that forges in my shoulders

Fatigue settles in as if at home

Lost with no hope of being found

Longing for my once upon a time life

Living a life as desolate as the desert floor

Sullen eyes give me away

My blonde hair wild, greasy, my clothes disheveled

I do not care about war, weather, or politics

Clothed in irritability

Bathed in insomnia

My presence is absent

I am but a shell

My fists wail

Waiting is the most formidable

Form of punishment

Hope the other

My brain lies to me

And I believe her

I think about dying

The methods I’d take

The note I’d write

An insidious illness

Lives within

I live without