You're a disease.
You're always reminded yourself,
Chronically and acutely leaking.
Wherever I was, you're with me everywhere.
The only difference is that
You're unknown for medicine.
Sometimes I feel better.
I almost don't notice symptoms,
And it seems that I won.
The strip is like hot metal — it turns white,
And some of my strength is returning.
Sometimes it gets worse.
Beginning of panic attacks.
I run into midnight delirium.
I remember that I always talk to you,
But now I also can see You,
And it really sucks.
Seizures end at dawn.
As if after a torture chamber,
I get out of bed.
I dress and go to work. Feeling better.
In my dialogues, you grew up, into a tumor,
And I'm afraid that I won't overcome that.
Because you are no longer you,
But only an inflamed me.
And this is the best part
Of God's black humor.
You re a disease
© Copyright: Юлиан Дель Кампо, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118022201515
Свидетельство о публикации №118022201515
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