my dad
has kept up with my recent doctors appointments
learning about my disease
offering hope
offering blood or plasma
but he refuses
to keep up with one in particular
my therapist, who "feeds me pills"
I explained that I was taking them
to feel better,
and he scoffed.
I explained that I was taking them
so I didn't feel the urge to take my own life,
and he scoffed.
YOU ARE READING
wilting
Poetryjust a couple poems I started working on, figured I might as well let you know I'm not dead and I do still exist
