LymeTick-tock, tick-tockThe clock is ticking, ticking fasterYour body's gone, you're not your masterYou're in a fog, to thick to thinkYour mind's not gone it's on the brinkThe ground it shakes beneath your feetYour legs once strong, they look so weakI know you'd love to see and standI know you'd love to be a manBut please lay down and watch the skyDon't let it's beauty pass you byTo see you struggle tears me apartI get this pain, it's in my heartBut I know you know all to wellThis damn disease can go to hell
Infuse MeNumb It. Push It. Watch It drip.My body is a repository of disease.Pop It. Stick It. Twist It. Clamp It.My body is a pharmacy at twenty-three.Burning, Hurting, Soreness, and Fatigue.Put on a smile. Pop some more pills. Bleed.Clean It. Cover it. Keep it dry.Dress It up in rainbow stockings, so It shines.From the tubes and the catheter, shield their eyes.Wear long sleeves so it is hidden all nice.When no one is looking, than you can cry.