I don’t really like this picture
the Medusa hair
the empty, searching eyes
behind the mask of a smile.
“Emotional support” animals exist
because “emotional support” humans
sometimes falter
with their words.
That unspoken empathy
sometimes best fulfilled
by a creature
weighing less
than two pounds.
“Can you bring me my baby?”
I’d asked my mother
“Birthday cake
wasn’t sugar free
after all”
I’d sighed.
Unfairly pushing the blame
of an insidious condition
onto another
in the exact ignorant manner
I have grown to detest
in the abundantly phony
“Tame Your Diabetes!” articles.
My vision blurry
I already knew the number
was 400+ and climbing
without having to look
at the faded screen
of an overused machine
supposedly meant to sustain life
while the cure lingers
just out of reach.
“Can you bring me my baby?”
