[Olivia]

(Bonjour je suis nouvelle je vous partage un de mes textes très novice je prend toutes les critiques )

ILLNESS

My illness is like me.
She is strong and devoted.
Like me.
She want to kill me.
I want to kill her.
She will NEVER give up.
I will never give up too.
She is part of me.
I have to admitt it.
Why can't she leave me alone?
I tell her million time to leave me.
But everytime she answer me by making me vomit or loosing my abilities to walk.
I know that is her.
How?
Because she want to kill me.
Slowly and hardly.
I can't walk anymore.
I can't wash my hair anymore.
She is winning.
Slowly and easily.
My illness is not like me.
She is a winner.
I am a looser.