The Diabetic Thief.

My diabetes stole my friend.
It ran away with her on the
back of a thousand trembles.
My skin shook, my knees knocked
and I lay there in a ball
hating everything and cursing.
Why today diabetes? I had plans.

It stole my friend
and she can’t come back,
not for ages and then
the diabetes will be waiting.
It might let me see her.Iit
might be greedy and make my
bed swallow me again, all
trembles and frozen limbs
while I lift a shaking glass
of sugary lucozade to my lips.

I will shudder at the taste, too
sweet. Too different. The taste
of failure. Always failure.
Me, my organs, my body, failing
from the outside and creeping out.

Everytime I improved something else
happened and it pushed me back to
the ground. ‘No, today is mine’, it said.
My diabetes stole my friend,
just like it psuehd so many others away.
they don’t understand, don’t want to try.
I only have a few left. And it stole her.

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