Thank you for not helping me.

Posted: November 5, 2010 in hidden admonishment
Tags: , , ,

I don’t want to be considered sick, and not just sick, but sick for the rest of my life.
Incurable.
Treatable, but incurable.
Those terms can overwhelm a person like me.
People like me.
Me.
I don’t want to be sick.

It’s not that I’m in denial anymore.
Maybe I was at one time.

They weighed me a few times and took my blood pressure.
“Look,” they told me based on these simple gestures.
“Look, you’re getting sicker.”

Thank you.

I got tangled in some red tape.
I was deemed poor, but not quite poor enough.
This was all based on imaginary numbers
and sharp, invisible lines.
Well, now I’ve been expunged from the system again
and I’ll just accept it this time.

Spit out.

It’s okay. I don’t want to hear about how I’m irrevocably sick anyway.
Today, I hit a wall.

Maybe you can sense something’s wrong and go to a doctor
that will either readily, or even hesitantly, tell you
that your life matters.
You think about exploiting a system that may or may not listen to you.
Well, I can’t afford to have someone make eye contact
to tell me I’m human, too.

I’m incurably sick.

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