Patient

I grieved two uncles in January

And in February the family dog

Come March I lost my patience

And in April became a patient myself

An unexplainable infection, they said

Demanding of my flesh

I watched my body turn shades it hadn’t before

Shades it shouldn’t

As they urged me to accept I may never be satisfied with a cause

Black

Turn gray

Turn pale white

Turn pink

Progress, they say

You look so good, they say

I suppose this is humor I’m unfamiliar with

Because as I lay

And lay

And lay

In a stiff mechanical cot that I beseech no body be sentenced to

I think of my flesh

The piece that is now missing

The piece that might’ve killed me

The piece that I think I still want back

A feeble price to pay, I know, for further uncounted years

Not even a pound of flesh

But that never stopped a mind from its questioning

I figured I am too young to discover I’m mortal

Though time wishes to drive such lessons home

So now with less loved ones in the world

With less of me in the world

I find out how strong I am

Cut me open and reveal my healthy shades

Pink was my favorite color as a child

Pink is the shade, they say, that now assures I survived