Living with EB
do you ever have bad days
like the ocean sprays
but no waves
like our skin is our armor
yet our armor is broken
not quite suitable to fight
every pain feeling like a final strike
Always standing in the back
so many limitations
defenses we lack
its like our body is only half
days are like art, we have to craft
skin of a butterfly but yet not as beautiful
that’s life, not always but at times cruel
so many good times passing by
watch as time flies
so many moments missed
do you ever just get pissed
like the hand we were dealt is ****
but then in the mix of it all
i am still standing while others around me fall
its like a ****ed up gift
our brains shift
seeing things through a different lens
a life been cleansed
