I want to talk about Crohn's disease.

This housebound ghost haunts my every move,

Reeking of despair

Clouding my judgment, and

preventing me from being me. 

Grass as green as the leaves

on a beautiful oak tree,

Perfectly trimmed hedges 

With perfectly sharp edges,

And a tall white picket fence

Invites the unexpected inside.

Only to discover roaches 

crawling at the perception of light, 

scratched wallpaper tarnished

with stains as scarlet as a rose, 

and a mellow “I love you” abandoned.

Broken, bested, and beaten,

This once functional house 

slowly sinks 

deeper into 

the cold dirt.