The Big Heart.

Fluid.
Limbs flooded,
lungs immersed,
skin engorged-
you chase it off.
Pill
after pill.

Nights.
Twilight wheezes 

upon three pillows.
Four.
Five.

Bare
are your breaths
as you gasp,
fight-
hunger unquenched.

Stairs
unconquerable,
indomitable,
fatigue intractable.
Slowly you ascend.

Still
you conquer,
embrace
love,

life,
strength.

Your heart full.

Your dilated cardiomyopathy.

 

20 thoughts on “The Big Heart.

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  1. I don’t have cardiomyopathy, but I do have congestive heart failure, and just recovered from a severe acute systolic episode in October that laid me low for three weeks. So I could relate to much of this poem. Thank you!

    Liked by 1 person

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