I went to the doctor’s yesterday and they gave me a piece of paper with a human figure printed on it—
"Tick where it hurts," they said.
Tick where it hurts.
So I marked my hands, because they ache- for you, desperately. They shake and I can’t hold a glass of water without causing ripples; they are cold in your absence.
I marked my feet, because I feel like they might shatter if I ever dare to rise from my bed and step foot on the floor. I do not believe they can bear the weight of the heaviness inside me; I used to lean on you.
I marked my head, because it hasn’t stopped running, pounding, since you left. I think I’m trying to remember your laugh, since it always comforted me; but all I can remember is the sound of the door slamming.
I marked my chest, because it burns. It burns and I can’t breathe, I feel like I’m drowning and even the waves can’t put out the fire in my chest. You were the air I breathed; now you’re gone and I’m suffocating.
But I didn’t know how to mark the ache in my back that’s been there since you left; I can’t sleep right now that you’re gone. I didn’t know how to mark the pain in my shoulders and my neck, growing weak under the weight of my anxiety-controlled mind, heavy with thoughts of you.
Tick where it hurts, the paper says.
It hurts everywhere."
tick where it hurts - coming soon
The following is a white blood cell chasing a bacterium. It eventually ends up swallowing it. The following white blood cell is specifically a neutrophil. They end up ingesting the microbe a process known as phagocytosis.