Hypochondria – New Poem (1st draft)
The list of ailments I haven’t got
goes on and on and on.
Life isn’t waiting.
No one is slowing down and pausing
to hang around until I fix myself and stand up.
But I can’t get sickness out of my head.
I’m still convinced that I’ll be dead
in my mid twenties.
A smile would be a lovely thing to have.
But I’m feeling tumours multiplying
in my brain and all my freckles
are signs of melanoma.
I’m told the most important event is realisation.
Like noticing how the light catches broken glass
in a window frame.