I am afraid to be left alone. The heaviness, it never leaves. The sun is plentiful but warmth I don't receive. I'm slipping, sinking, twisting in vain. Her death will swallow me whole just the same. There is no color here, only black. If my body is a temple, hers is a crumbling shack.

I am afraid of my own thoughts. They stifle me, I cannot breathe. Slumber is the only reprieve. Even that is haunted, even that is corrupt. It's always still true when I wake up. Nothing's different, nothing's changed. Nothing will save her from her sorry state.

I am angry at her body. It consumes itself, it never yields. Why must it eat at her this way? For this disease she is an unwilling host, there is no remedy for what's in her bones.



I can't think of anymore rhymes, so I'm just going to write what I feel.


Life is standing still. I am not hungry, I cannot sleep even though my body aches from fatigue. I can never escape this ugly truth. I am marching steadily to the end. I feel like it's me whose death is near. I am being swallowed whole. I am being sucked into a place where no light exists. Everything is closing in and I am powerless to stop it. There are people around me who are happy. I hate them for it. I am not happy. I will never be happy again. I will live forever with this hole in my being. It will not be better tomorrow. It will be worse. It will be worse and worse until she takes her last breath, and even then it won't be any better. I will lose myself, I will die too, I will not ever stand up again. It's over, it's all over, for her and for myself. There is nothing beyond this; there are only gray valleys and uneasy skies. I will never feel joy, I will never appreciate a beautiful day, I will never feel complete. I am ugly and hollow; I am floating; I am without purpose or direction. My life is one miserable day after another. I am spent. I am no one. I have no more emotional reserves. I have used them all. Everyone else is just an object in space. Does anything matter? Is anything important? Will this ever end? Day in, day out. Worrying, praying, pleading, crying, heaving, gasping, reasoning, dreading. All the time, never ceasing. The days run into one another. What month is it? Who cares. Who cares about Thanksgiving, who cares about Christmas. Who cares about families and values and gifts and holiday parties and the new year. I don't. Fuck your parties. Fuck your pleasantries. Fuck your happiness and your zeal for life and your hope for the future. I feel none of it. It does not apply to me. I am not alive anymore, I am a shell. The walking dead. My carcass is being dragged down a road. I feel nothing. There is nothing. Only darkness, only despair. Only ugliness and disappointment. Hopelessness. Depression. I am depressed. I will be depressed forever. I will sleep forever. I will not bother to wake up and look outside. I want to stay in my bed forever, inside the soft sheets. Those sheets are all I have left. The unconscious sleep is all that's left. I don't have to deal with it then. I can dream, I can be away. And when I wake up I remember it all over again. This is now. This is my life. This is happening to me. This is real. This fucking disaster is real. This horrible shit is real. She is dying. She is dying. She is dying. It's in her bones, her lungs, her kidney, her liver. It's all over the place. It's over, it's so over. Don't ask me how she's doing. Leave me alone. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to make new friends. I don't want to be happy. I don't particularly want to be alive. Let it end.