I keep the men in my closet Wrapped up in weatherproof bags They drape from hangers No one has touched in years I have my favorites Fancy formal dresses That get worn just once A bridal gown drags the ground Locked away in its white body bag Amongst memories best forgotten Then there are the insignificant Testosterone tidbits Scraped from the bottom of my shoes That litter the floor of my closet I should really vacuum those out Boxes of pieces that no longer fit I’m just too damn sentimental To dump them off at the thrift I haven’t bought anything new in a while The Italian stitching and exotic fabrics Really did a number on my style
You guys want to know how aggravatingly difficult it is to be chronically sick in America? I have done it more than once, but let me tell you again. For the past two years, I have been on Stelara injections every 8 weeks for my Crohn’s disease. I am currently in remission thanks to the help of this drug that is priced at over $20,000 for a single 90mg shot. Take note that I said I have been on this drug for two years. I am due my next injection tomorrow. Last week I called the hospital pharmacy because they had not called me yet to refill the medication. I was told that the insurance is requiring another pre authorization in order to fill the script. They don’t just process these astronomically priced drugs unless they get insurance approval first. Forget the fact that the prescription itself is a pre authorization from the doctor. She says I need it, so what is the problem? The problem is that these fucks want to make it harder for me, they want me to give up. I spent 45 minutes on th...
How many times did I tell you that I wanted to write a book while we were together those 14 years? Since you've been gone this past year and a half, I have written 2 plus more. Buying me a laptop was not the encouragement I needed. Leaving me to simmer in my sorrow was not the way to do it. When you shattered the lightbulb and turned the light out, I switched it back on and can see myself more clearly in this new flattering light. I can also see what's in front of me. Infidels and their infidelity. She is ratchet. I am hammer. So, while I may still be as salty as the Dead Sea, and probably always will be, I suppose I should thank you for teaching me that snakes and sheep dress alike. Thank you for returning me to me. Grazie for your brightness, because it did so used to shine. I hope you find your spark again, but I am no longer your lighter fluid. Thank you for this Renaissance. Grazie for stepping up financially when you no longer could emotionally. Thank you or the pieces of...
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