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this is about diabetesthis is about diabetes, and for those who are unlucky enough to be born with it.this is about diabetes by ~magikalmaiNtenance
this is what i wanted to share: don't do what i did.
i was in such denial, i refused to wear my pump for days.
there were times when i refused to let this thing be a reality, and simply let myself go completely.
whole jars of nutella and a spoon. the equivalent of a whole days meals for the average diabetic. gone. ten minutes.
seizures on the floor. my mother crying her eyes out. hospitals, drips, obscure diagnoses for what i knew was simply ketones.
didn't measure for weeks on end. didn't even know where my glucometer was.
lies. so many lies. 'i'm fine. t
insomniaThe sky stretched out above the tidy red-polished rooftops outside my window; and I couldn’t help but let my forehead rest on the cool frosted window; my breath steaming up the glass as beads of condensation edged their way down the panes. I was exhausted; I could feel my eyelids slowly drooping; eyelashes meeting and my face relaxing on the thick layer of window.insomnia by ~magikalmaiNtenance
It was early, early morning; and the first rays of sunlight stretched out over the highest roof tops and yawned over the tiny town. The sky was a watery; cloudless blue, a weak reaction to the suns dawning while the darkness chased away to hide in the shadows underneath the
jackylet this jacky danny shotjacky by ~magikalmaiNtenance
be the phrase of melancholy trips
theres a peculiar sadness in the way it feels cold on the inside when its hot
still breathing in the smoke that lingers on your lips
roll up the stardust and play the tune on your fingertips
flip shit, keep it, love it, throw it away and ditch it, take it back, put it to bed and kiss it.
the meaning is spread out in the thin lines between what was and wasn’t said
but your absence fills up more and more of the other side of the bed.
gosh the blankets are warm
the alarm bells ring and outside’s a wet and weathered storm.
the water underneath yet another bridge,
spills ou
a story to tellThe wind is low, whistling serenely past his ears as he makes his way down the damp road, each rivet of water illuminated by the luminescent pale blue that streaks across the sky in lazy stripes. ..a story to tell by ~magikalmaiNtenance
It was a chilling day. The sun was watery and hovered, as though unsure of its own presence, in the sky, peeking sheepishly out to burn his eyes as he clutched the 95p coffee that was surely going to freeze; like the very tips of the blades of grass, shivering gently underneath their frozen caps of frost. The coat he wore was old, thick and faded. The elbows were patched with cut-out ovals of an old blanket, his scarf smelled of mildew mixed with
Sta.sh
