Most days I feel my illness
I know it’s real and I feel awful
Like the life is sucked out of me
But sometimes no matter how rarely
I feel almost human
Like I’m miraculously cured
On those good days
I question my illness
Like everyone else does for me
I wonder if I was making it up
If I really am just seeking attention
Like so many have told me
I wonder if it’s all in my head
Whether it’s just the way I am
And I do all the things I usually can’t do
But then the next day it hits me
And I know it was a fluke
I am ill and I always will be
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