I watch him slowly disappear from
this earth, a 240-pound body mass
whittled down to 125. His bones stand
out sharp under his wrinkled, brown
skin; spiteful for the years they were
engulfed by flesh and fat. I hug him.
His bone slice my flesh, smiles as it
spreads its disease through my body,
laughs as my roundness deflates.
Now, we hug with comfort; wrinkled
skin resting on wrinkled skin. Bones
embracing bones. I’ve become a
companion in his downward spiral.
When I was young I heard the proverb
Misery Loves Company. I now rewrite
it, as through experience I have learned,
Misery Pities His Company.

Arlene Antoinette writes poetry, flash fiction, and song lyrics. More of her work can be found in Better Than Starbucks, Cagibi Lit, Foxglove Lit, Juke Joint, Little Rose Magazine, Literary Heist, London Grip, and Tuck Magazine.