I watch you break more each day, cracking more by the hour. Just as fragile as you were the day you were born, it's getting worse and there's still no cure. The L Word.

She's the mistress that your immune system tries to refuse and while its fighting between temptation and the loyalty to your body, you suffer.

The way a child does while hearing mommy and daddy fight for their marriage, you hurt.

She's the teacher that always gives you a pop quiz you're never prepared for, on lessons you've never even studied, she is poison.

The L Word, she is the master of disguise and rips off her mask when all damage is done. She is Devils play.

To many, Lupus is a tall tale disease that many sigh at, yet wipe off the sweat of their brow in relief because they don't have it.

To me, Lupus is the family member no one wants around yet she visits anyway.

The step mother you never liked but your dad married anyway, the crazy ex that thinks she's still apart of the family.

Lupus, has caused my family too much pain and tried to take away the only woman brave enough to raise me, she is the red apple that the wicked witch gave to Snow White.

Shortly after she gave back my great aunts immune system, she wrapped her freshly manicured fingers around her heart and squeezed.

She squeezed until she was satisfied with my aunts pleas for held pleas for air, after she was content with all of the 'I'm scared's & the 'I don't know's and she released.

For me, she is the true homie hopper, she can definitely keep it in the family because she skipped my grandmother and went straight to her youngest daughter, and after one too many times of a serious hair breaking I experience I way too much, my aunt looks to me and says "maybe you should get checked."

The L Word.

She took out my aunts hair. Left nothing but a thin layer to remind her of what once was .

She stares at me telling me how much she wishes she had a head of hair as full as mine. I stare back wishing I could give it to her.

On the days Lupus has found someone else to play with are the days my aunt takes her smile out of her drawer and wears it proudly.

On those days, I wonder who's body she may be foundling, praying it won't be mine.

To many, she is know as "The L Word", but she and have become dangerously familiar, so we speak on a first names basis.