T1D (A Poem)

There is no intermission,
No curtain call,
No dimming lights –
Just numbers glowing in the dark.

It’s lows after midnight,
Math before breakfast,
And alarms that do not care
If I am tired.

They say “manage it” –
Like it’s a planner;
Like it fits into neat boxes.

But it lives outside the lines.
It bleeds into every moment.

I don’t think I am as afraid
Of the highs and lows,
As I am afraid
Of never getting a break.

The constant awareness –
The counting,
The calculating
The quiet fear of getting it all wrong.

Female, 17 y/o
Diabetes, Type I