deteriorate

as i sit here typing this, my body is giving out on me. i can feel the occasional tingle in the leg; the first sign that i'm going to be entirely weak soon. my nostrils are full, debris cutting off the flow of oxygen in or out. my throat is swollen and pulsing, evey breath hurts a little more than the one before it.

i need to go to bed, but i feel the need to write. to put something down on the page, so that you know that i am still reading your words and caring about your hurts.

but i'm sorry. i have the energy to write no more. i need sleep.

wish for me, like i wish for you.

goodnight. i love you all dearly.