January 24th, 2013


Don't Read If Distress Distresses You

I'm laying here in bed, nauseous, dizzy, trying to read if not sleep. My lungs feel weird. My female parts feel as though a UTI is heading into port. My eyes can't stop their watering. My lungs wheeze every so often.

This all has me saying outloud, albeit quietly, "Please let me die, I feel I can't take much more." I say it quietly, so as to not disturb even a hair in my home.

I've written a little more and there's still much more to be put out of my brain and into the universe on a piece of paper. Step-by-step, eh?