C.F.S. (for Skye)

It's an abbreviation for defeat
(or so it seems)
strung across bed
stretched on rack
tortured by nausea
of endless fatigue
unable even to collect
the mail

He attempts to sleep
pop culture has given him
everything it has to offer
books, CDs, films
he's read, listened, watched
them all
condensed fifty years consumption
into five spent tired, numb
and desperate

Blood tests and specialists
homeopathic cures
he's tried them all
the only cure is rest
and patience
for next upswing
of clock hand

Except his sentence isn't
measured in minutes,
hours, days
rather months, years
spent barred into a bedroom
by a pulled blind
a shut door
a weak immune system

wrapped in sweaty sheets
of his own frustration