Let me breathe for you,

inhale whispers of air,

infuse you with tomorrows,

lift weight from your shoulders,

return to you with love

the gifts you have bestowed,

cherish you and make today

worth living so you can go on,

free of the worries and burdens,

bear your pain for you,

lift your sadness of spirit

and struggle alongside you,

filling your life with daisies

and rays of sunshine

so you can brave

what the future brings

with courage and hope,

leaving a legacy of memories

for all those who love you.

Walk firmly into the night

knowing that I am there

every step of the way,

holding your hand.

Would you deny a veteran with PTSD,

Or a grieving wife who just lost her late husband,

The right to happiness?

No?

Then why must you make the lives of every LGBT individual

A living hell

Just because you think they're mentally ill?

Sometimes it feels like society says 

You should be always happy, 

Showing your sadness is a 

Sign of weakness.

But I know

You are not a burden

People do care about you

You are here for a reason

The world would not be the same 

Without you.

Sometimes the seas of it all 

Crash down upon you

Sometimes you find yourself 

Swallowed beneath the waves

Sometimes the night is as heavy as an anchor 

And you cling to your shore

Sometimes everything goes wrong

Sometimes you look at your life and think

"I can't. I quit,"

This is what the hidden illness does

And I'm here to say to everyone and anyone

With these hidden illnesses -

You are important.

You are endless.

Be good to you 

And if anyone tells you otherwise,

You tell yourself that people need other people.

And no one else

Can play your part.

I swallow coals

and radiate heat

No water can quench

I wilt, vomiting flames

and quake in icy blankets.

I feel like crap

I feel like shit

But I'm so busy

I can't even knit

I've fallen behind

Haven't knitted a scarf in a while

I'm so sick

It hurts to smile

My throat's sore

My nose hurts

It won't stop running

It just oozes and squirts

I keep coughing

Up comes the phlegm

That's so gross

I can't fall asleep until 3 AM

It pisses me off

That people still try to start shit

Are they that dumb

Can't they see that I'm sick

Lying in bed with a massive migraine,

Holy cow, my head is in immense pain.

No sound or light,

Too loud and bright,

Hurry and leave before I go insane.

They put me in machines

and tell me it will be okay

but it won't.

I'm stage four.

Terminal.

I've reached the point of

No return.

Day by day I wait

Pointlessly.

There are no miracles

other than the sweet release

of sleep.

Radiated like a bomb

I lay in bed,

head throbbing with meds

to keep me high.

This isn't treatment:

its torture.

There is no therapy:

its useless.

I want to go home;

far,

far

away from here.

I'm...

...feeling tired.

Let me sleep now.

It's in the air I breathe. 

Maybe it's a chemical reaction triggered from the impulses in my brain, that might change the substance of my breathing-feast. I'm choking on frustration, chewing on anguish, fasting on potential. 

I'm grubbing down the possible outcomes, my dessert is coated in dark luscious predestination, confirmed. I munch down my conformity and fill up on self sufficency, I need people to like me. 

Take that as an invitation to dinner. 

Would you like some half-empty cup of air?

Half shaken or stirred?

Why do Dr.'s lie!

Why does the accident still hurt so much?

Why do 'ones in authority' keep saying, "It'll get better"

Why has this 'condition' taken away my ability to move, to enjoy life, cease making love

Why has it taken over my mind, thoughts of not caring, not belonging

Why am I allowing this depression to take me down

Why can't I smile like I used to, instead of cry

Why

Why

Why!!!

It has to stop hurting

It has to stop ruling and running my life

Or my life will cease to exist..I will never write or paint

I am special, I can't give in..

Each year it seems I catch the “croak”

The only time my words aren’t spoke

Attempts to keep the germs away

(Wash hands quite often as they say)

Yet still it seems this crud finds me

My course is set most definitely

It starts out rough (just past a cold)

Then runs its course – now growing old

 I’m often left with tongue all tied

The many cures have all been tried

The last one left is time spent mute

Clock moving slow – this is no hoot

If one so stymied was not me

This lends itself to comedy

Of errors fraught when one can’t chat

What do you think YOU’D do with that?

Just nod and point and smile and pout

To get your point across no doubt

The things I can’t do weigh on me

And seem to multiply with glee

But I must turn all that aside

My “handicap” I’ll take in stride

And do the things no voice requires

’Til of those too my body tires

I pray you’ll never get this blight

That you’ll stay healthy, strong and right

I’d call with wishes now to stoke

But I CAN’T TALK – I only CROAK!