#WritcoPoemChallenge
If only wishes can come true,
I have one or two or maybe a few,
And they're all about you,

You have been my hellish nightmare, the pain in my gut, the knife to my heart. The living omen of death of my door, sitting mockingly, in the corner of my darkened space. There you stay and wait. Then you take. You steal. You rob me of my tears. You are my tormentor, my stolen hearts tale, whom forced my hand into a cursed life of handmaiden to healthcare.

You teach me hard lessons in ways I wished you had not, and where do I begin to use such wisdom, trapped in this blackened space.

So if I had one wish or two, maybe a third, I would wish for at least one day of being free, risen from this darkned hole.

To be seen beyond the tales of my dismay even for a while, for those are not my hearts truest desires.

I miss the world dearly and long to be held, and to hold you, I love to live and laugh with you. It’s my body that forbids me so.

So if I had a chance at one wish, it would be to be free and go with you on adventures, for that I would immediately flee my darkened post.

For these burdens are just that.

Burdens who consume me.

Signed, cursed is my health,

RIP. The Forgotten, Chronic & Ill.

© Issy Wilson