Diagnosed with a terminal illness
called life, I know it will end in death.
For more than seventy years, that end
has lived within me, walked beside me, 73 more words
I think I’m going to go blind.
Not now, but soon. Probably not too soon. Maybe in my 40s or 50s if I still get to live such a generous bulk of years, considering I’m that kind of person who might just not live to see my beautiful Benedict Cumberbatch turn 92, let alone 70, courtesy of an expected heart attack, cardiac arrest or whatever ASD complication post-asymptomatic period there is. 1,840 more words