Write an abecedarian poem.

A doctor Asked me to write how I feel
About my Aches.
Broken, I said. too
Broken to
Care about the
Drama or
Comfort the
Energy draining vampires as I did before.
F politics and F petty arguments. I used to be
Generous and Gracious with my time. too Generous. but my
Heart Hurts. I can’t help everyone.
I Imagined I could until I became Ill.
Jack and Jill and Joe Schmoe didn’t give a damn then.
Kind words and gestures aren’t enough to Keep the
Lot of those Losers I Learned.
My family and real friends showed up.
No one else mattered anymore.
Once upon a time I would have cried
Over the loss but
Physical Pain Prevents me from feeling anything. Pain
Quenches the sadness. Can’t think of anything else except the non
Stop
Throbbing. It’s brought out my
Ugly. My
Vanity. My obsession
With my Weight. I try to
X out the voices that say
“You aren’t enough.” but the
Zipper snags.