friday 30.06

My tears dissipate before they reach my cheek. Like the red blood in my heart, they are real as I think, not too deep and feel the destruction that has possessed my internal organs. Infection after infection, so much cypro, so very my cypro and the relief is sparing at best. The neubulizer of morphine hums, the steam that surrounds me as mysterious as the afterlife. The feeling of warmth soothing but not a cure for another day living mess and chaos, inward formed, without consent and permission but definitely with a hateful vengeance.

I try to motivate, to move in a normal fashion and another tear falls, the real me realizing I know not what normal is anymore.

I am a puppet and the strings are worn, hinges rusty and soon I will be shelved with a sense of permanence and completion.