The Abiding Affliction
As our eyes meet around the corner,
by Melissa Hurst
my heart uproots the present pain
and makes room for new agonies.
The process keeps me bed-ridden.
I am aware of a cure,
but I know that it cannot
fully remove the curse.
And when you take me in the night,
I become afflicted.
I moan as if my bowels are rupturing,
and breathe as if oxygen is near extinction.
Your eyes observe my illness
and know that you are safe
because so few were born protected
from its symptoms and its eternal infection.
My fingers wrap 'round the blankets
as if pain has possessed me
and you cry out as you temporarily
ease the pain of my heart
and soothe the unbearable effects of my sickness.
And when you have left in the morn,
I wake up incurable.