Beat.
Breathe.
Cry.
See.
Eat.
Move.
Crawl.
Stand.
Talk.
Walk.
Run.
Everything we do we take for granted.
Any time we move,
Any time we speak,
Any time we eat,
Anytime we breathe.
Engulfed in a sea of itself.
Time passes,
Things change.
Suddenly you’re stuck,
In an endless wormhole of wail and worry.
The days pass by,
Staring at a glowing screen of nothingness.
Everything aches, and swoles.
Swallowed by itchy blankets,
Being held everywhere you go.
Needing help going anywhere,
Doing anything.
Barely speaking.
Barely moving.
Barely breathing.
Stuck in a sunken hospital chair,
The days blend together,
The only air you’re breathing is from a tube.
People slithering in and out,
Holding your hand,
Sitting,
Checking vitals,
Saying goodbye.
At some point you have to say goodbye,
At some point you have to accept,
At some point you have to realize.
Surrounded by tubes going left and right.
Beeping machines.
Footsteps.
Tv.
Can't communicate,
Sentenced to being uncomfortable,
No one knows.
This disease takes away your strength and stuff.
Your nerves and muscles start to fade.
Left with nothing but you,
And your thoughts.
As you watch everyone around you enjoy life,
And you remain observing,
And thinking.
Yet no one can seem to ease your pain,
Just standing around,
With nothing to save.
You look as everyone is crowded around you,
Tears flowing down their face,
You close your eyes,
And drift off into the light.