ILL

I don’t do it that much
Just on occasion
Occasions happen more frequently now
Everyday an occasion
I have a problem
I know I have a problem
You would think that the realization of this would stop it
Realization is not sanity
Realization does not cure my sickness
My sickness is terminal
Lying on my bathroom floor
Cold and hard
Beaten down by the enemy
Bloodied by my unforeseen foe
I stare unblinking into the bright lights
I never noticed their beauty until this moment
The only clarity in my mind
Those lights
Visual affirmation of life
That my heart continues to beat
All my muscles tighten all at once
My back arches away form the floor
No control
My body hurls and throws
I cry out in garbled gasps
I cry for help
Though I want all to keep away
I scream in my head
Lost in my own thoughts
Unable to help myself
The people I most love try desperately to help me
They don’t know
When I tell them to leave me alone
They’re unaware
They don’t know that this happens all the time
That I don’t need an ambulance
That no doctor need be called
In time it will stop
I’ll get up from the floor as if nothing has happened
It’s life
Not as it should be
But as it is
Life with my sickness