I am sick of being sick.

It is as if I am bound to a part of me that I am ashamed of.

I lie there and wither away.

I talk to God and beg for mercy.

I question my faith.

I long for other.

I am besieged by the weight of myself as I struggle to breath.

I wonder where I went wrong.

Did I mess up my body beyond repair?

I am connected to the sky by the window and a TV set.

I am sick of being sick!

Absent of that healthy strapping young man I so desire to be.

I look at the wall and urn for the booger collection.

I ask God what lies ahead.

I doubt my call.

I desire to touch.

Like in high school being the only kid with friends that did not hug.

I am on the outside looking in.

I utter whispers.

I look at the colors outside.

I am not depressed, only tired.

I bargain with God like an African bizarre merchant.

Then I forget the valued filled conversation and surf for kicks and duds.

I chat on the web.

I feed my cyber pet, a monkey named Fudgy Go Go!

Lined with guilt and shame I am sad I missed the feast.

I am sick of being sick.

I just want to be better.

So that I can resume running and cease smoking. God please watch over me and repair the damage within. Pardon my sins as I am depraved and aware. Cloth me in your righteousness. Deliver to me your courage and strength. Count me among your people. Silence my anger and rage. Shrink my stature so that you may grow in me. Fill me with your Spirit. Thank you for loving me.

Amen.

p.s. milk comes from cows. cheese comes from people. the block is just the beginning. people are like cheese.