It’s been three years since they diagnosed me.
The disease hits fast. it takes away everything.
There’s not much left I can do.
I can’t do anything for myself.
I’m trapped inside of me. Here.
I can blink. I can look around.
But not much else.
What you’re hearing now is my voice.
But I recorded it, and they processed it.
So I can look at this screen and spell out words.
The computer does the rest.
I piss myself. I shit myself.
A tube in my throat breathes for me.
I can go on for years like this.
Why?