What does it feel like to be low? A poem.

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Written in response to Amy’s post at DiabetesMine:

And my thoughts
become like
poetry which is
to say French-
dipped in an illogic
each line gasping
grasping for its
its what is it its
antecedent
pronouns bereaved
sense sticks on
my tongue drawn like
glycerol through a
syringe blink and a magic-
eye puzzle world
skips that was
a moment blood
sucked dry beats
at the walls
slow like thrum thrum
pray pray for
ten minutes further
my time brittle
and wasted forgotten
by all but my
microvascular complications.

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Scott K. Johnson

Wow!  Goosebumps Karmel! 

Jessica Apple

Another extraordinary poem!  The opening line is brilliant.  Happy Holidays.

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