Disease.

I’m wearing my mood likea weight around my neck.
Everyday it gets harder and harder to lift my head.
I keep trying to do the right thing for everyone involved in my life,
But everyday the pull to stay in bed gets stronger.
I wish there were words to cure my disease,
But instead it just festers inside me, slowly taking me over.
Time between breaths has become far too difficult.
I can hear my number, it’s being called.