My sister needs a bone graft.
What at one point we were worried was leukemia,
is actually something called osteonecrosis.
The bone in her left hip is literally rotting.
You can’t–can’t–can’t take a plug that big from a living donor,
‘n my sister is 17 and 5 foot zilch,
so we’re waitin’ for someone to die young.
It’s a special kind of guilt when you drive past a car-crash,
and hope they wore their seatbelts when they died,
it’d make the hip easier to salvage.
Feels like pickin’ the pockets of the dead.
