Covered in blisters, in stitches, in gauze;
Looking for an illness that might be the cause.
Skin paling, bones breaking, I'm falling apart;
'Tis a disease of the mind or disease of the heart?
Pricked by the needle, IV's running cold;
Remember to clean every object I hold.
My blood's getting thinner, my pressure getting high;
I wonder how long I have till I die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem