This is an old piece I wrote during my first few years of my HIV diagnosis:
A Piece of the Plague
During these bad days,
I wish I could show you
my piece of the plague;
maybe you would understand
my nervous steps as I march
on this crumbling road
of hovering death and blood.
When the fevers come
in the thick of the evening,
I wish I could just touch you
and scream out this gnawing fear
that is slapping me awake;
maybe you might understand.
As I sit in my usual place
in the waiting room
I watch others walk their own roads
and hear stories of decay,
I wish I could share my pain;
some days I don't have the words.
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