Cacoethes Amoris
Sickly, miserable, tormented. The gruesome state I am in, you cannot comprehend. I can no longer live as I would. A plague of you lies wthin my body. If only I could say those three sacred words, will you then maybe save me and grant me some relief?
Weeks on end, bouts of epistaxis have followed me. Petechial marks soon become purpuric presentations. Itching and reddening as they come, ecchymoses forming brown and blue as I scratch to relief the discomfort. My skin now bloodied from within - God forbid, intracranial bleeding ensues.
My tongue red and swollen, my gums bruised and my teeth might just fall out. The taste of iron lingers about, never leaving despite how much I drink. Washing my mouth worsens the taste and leaves more pain as it goes. Brown then stains the pearly foam of my toothpaste and the ivory ceramic of my bathroom sink.
My eyes are bloodshot, I end up looking like I've just been crying or lost plenty of sleep, and honestly it's both, though whether it's because of you or in addition to you, I'm not sure. I should just be relieved that my heart still pumps and my blood still suffices. It's only a matter of time before I lose it all to you.
Just know that it will bleed all out for you, but the fact that I'm still living is a proof of my perseverance against how much I love you.