I have learned to be wary when someone tells me that they love me.
When you are plagued with incurable illness, you know
That people tend to enjoy facets of your personality,
Like singular bright constellations of who you are
But that does not mean they can handle you as an entire galaxy.
It took me a long time to feel broken as a person,
But the first time I collapsed onto the concrete street
Will always be cemented in my mind.
I know now that I am a little older, that people are not ready
To be your crutches at 2 in the afternoon
When they have work to get to.
Now that I’m a little older, I know
That no matter how hopeful I am,
People will not want to listen to my being realistic.
I am not pessimistic, but my reality is that of 4 am hospital visits,
Shaking until I vomit and bite into my tongue,
And no matter how hard you hold me, I will only bruise.
I am a force of nature, and like the quake of the earth
You can not stop me.
I am a fault line, and underneath my surface is a system of malicious bacteria
Waiting to create fissures in all of my relationships.
I have learned that when someone tells me that they love me,
They also have to love my illness.
Loving me means loving the tremor in my hands,
The rasp in my voice, the vertigo before bedtime,
The fog in my brain that will at times cause me to forget your name and your birthday.
I have learned to be wary when someone tells me that they love me,
Because loving me comes at a cost far beyond medical bills.
Loving me is sleep lost, time spent, migraines and back aches
And full days spent napping with uncomfortable heart monitors on.
Loving me means bittersweet road trips I can't afford,
To doctors that I don't want to see.
I am a bomb, waiting to go off at the most inconvenient moment,
When I'm meeting your friends, and the pain inside me sings louder than church choirs,
When all you want is sleep because you are so tired of me being tired.
But, loving you means I will go to exceptional lengths
To make sure you are okay, even when I'm so faint I can hardly stand
I will use every last ounce of my pitiful remnants of strength
To pull you out of any emotional gutter you find yourself in
Loving me means late night talks, and warm drinks when you are sad
Loving me means terrible songs and poetry, written with the best of intentions
Loving me means that even though one day I may go,
Far sooner than you,
I will do everything I can, with every last fibre of my broken being
To make you hope that I stay.
But, I have learned to be wary when someone tells me that they love me,
Because I know that one day, I will dissipate,
And I will damage,
And they will go.
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