Am I Dying?

Dear doctor, am I dying?
Soon as the secret’s discovered,
all my plans and dreams, shattered.
Previous signs now have a name
so I’ll forever be haunted.

They say the truth will set you free
but you won’t break free
from chronic disease, sorry.

I said I’ll take care of me, but who’s me?
It’s new to me that my cells can disagree,
causing riot in my body
that I seem lazy, or crazy.

The angst child aesthetic,
oh how I want to not have it.
Mood swings and irregular heartbeat,
don’t stress me out or I’ll panic.

“Why do you get sick so often?”
When I answer please, don’t bother.
Delicate, sad and pathetic,
I hate when people pity me.

But I’m anemic, lethargic.
My joints and muscles can easily break.
I do one simple task
and my organs collapse.

I know I’m weak, I’m weird.
Does it look like I want any of this?
There’s always trembling on my fingertips
and my lungs hurt just to breathe.

Fever, headache, stomachache.
I have no other choice than
to make peace with pain.

I become a vampire
who hides from the sun.
In my cheeks there’s a butterfly
that won’t let me have fun.

Said secret is SLE,
The Disease of A Thousand Faces.
It is my body protecting me
by brutally destroying me.

— Inez Lyvia