i’m almost 22 
but halfway to 60
my body’s winding down
no chance to breathe 

i’m running on half a leg 
a peice of my lung 
a sliver of my heart
embarressed of my bladder 

fighting to live a life 
where i’m happy on my own 
its a messy paint splatter 
halway off the canvas 

between college classes 
and doctors appointments 
part time jobs
and social services

three lives collide
my head, jumbled 
my shoes tied together 
stumbling as i go

no choice
have to keep crawling
can’t stop now, or else
my bed won’t be made
my cheek warm
on the ice cold floor
a sheet as my replacement 
or worse, the concrete 
as the rats greet me
only they’d know my name

so much at stake 
if i don’t push a little more 
past my limit 
i’ll pay for it tomorrow 
in bed ridden misery 
but for future security 

see no one could prepare you
for, almost, twenty two
and disabled 
but fighting
in more ways than one