Countdown

Somewhere between a body that walks
on three legs in the afternoon and one
that rolls on wheels, every day living
with a disability is a riddle wrapped
in a conundrum, buried deep within

your own health. Disability borrows
your body from you, never returns
it whole. It's a bad next door neighbor
that steals your wallet; gets under
your bones and wipes his feet

on your immune system. Imagine
your own body was lying to you
in the years you felt well, never
gave you heads up. No warning,
just arrival. Terrible arrival never

ending as long as you will know
about it. Disability will narrate
your obituary while you sleep,
leaving so many blank spaces,
because who knows what kills

you in the end? The suspects
are already too numerous
to keep track of, this late
at night. Sleep eludes,
accessory to crime.

The story starts to
live, to breathe,
just like you,
someday,
won't.