You eat me from inside.
Here I am, a rotten meaningless body craving for you, having to deal with the emptiness inside, fearful, insecure. And as I seek here, alone with everybody, I can feel how I fall apart, I can here even better now the bluebird that sings in there, in its disgusting cage. But being alone never felt right and was never possible for a long time, so I put on a smile when having someone around, and watch how foolishly they believe I'm fine. I don't hear their words, nor do I feel their touches and I ignore their concerns with such a blindness because I cannot see any similarity between theirs and mines. I wonder whether I'm ever gonna heal, whether this lupus will ever gonna stop haunting me. But since the answer is further than I can see, your absence stays with me, destroying my inner existence, leaving me nothing more but a body with blood still running trough my vines, maddening my brain with your poison, making everything inside hurt. Sometimes I wish you ate my lungs, so wouldn't have to breath anymore, because I'm surely not living anyway. Not anymore.Happy Birthday, Lupus.