Thursday, November 22, 2012


The future looms insidiously. 
Although it is only fiction, 
it insists on its rightful place.
Unanswerable questions:
How long will I have to live 
within this illness?
Will I be diminished by it?
Hover above me and wait.
One genuine anxiety
draws them like a magnet
to engulf me.
I am drowning in an illusion.

1 comment:

  1. I can but send you my love, Diana. I keep thinking of you: so much uncertainty, so many questions,