ANTIHISTAMINE
Last spring I loved the smell of cut grass
Now my throat closes up when I walk past
A single pollen grain lands on my tongue
And my body acts like I've been poisoned and hung
Summer came and dust became the enemy
Under my bed, in the books, in the memory
I bought three air purifiers, taped the windows shut
But my eyes still swelled like a prayer from a nut
By autumn I couldn't touch a dog or a cat
My skin turned to braille – hives wrote a map
The doctor said "It's just a phase, take this pill"
I said "Doc, my immune system wants to kill"
Antihistamine
Antihistamine
I take it every hour now or I stop being me
Antihistamine – the only thing that sets me free
From the world, from the touch, from the allergy to be
Then came mold, then came nickel, then came cold air
I wore a face mask just to breathe in my chair
Perfume from a stranger on the subway car
Left me gasping like a fish in a stolen jar
I got allergic to coffee, to tea, to the news
To the blue light on my phone, to my own excuses
A friend hugged me once – I broke out in welts
He said "Maybe you're allergic to the hand that helps"
Antihistamine
Antihistamine
I take it every four hours or I stop breathing clean
Antihistamine – I swallow just to stay between
The living and the dying, the rash and the routine
Then came the day I couldn't eat bread or rice
My mast cells declared a holy war on spice
I lived on boiled chicken and distilled water
My mother cried – "You used to be my daughter"
I became allergic to fluorescent light
A flicker in the kitchen would turn my day to night
Migraines, hives, anaphylaxis from a lamp
I started sleeping in a cellar cold and damp
Then I got allergic to silence and to sound
To the floor beneath my feet, to the lost and found
To the smell of clean laundry, to the rust on a nail
My life became a hospital gown – too thin, too pale
The specialist ran a test on my blood.
He said "Ma'am, we've never seen this flood."
"You're allergic to histamine itself?"
I laughed – then my throat closed like a stolen wealth.
Then came the final stage – the one I feared most
I became allergic to the human host
Not their cologne, not their pets, not their hair
Just them. Their presence. The weight of their stare.
I sat in a room full of family and friends
My skin burned like a thousand paper cuts, no ends
I screamed "Get away! Your breath is killing me"
They backed off slowly – and that's when I could see
Allergy to life is just allergy to love
To the mold on the memories, the dust on the glove
To the pollen of promises, the nickel of need
My immune system finally learned how to read
It read my own history – and declared it a weed
Antihistamine
Antihistamine
I take it every hour now or I stop being me
Antihistamine – the only thing that sets me free
From the world, from the touch, from the allergy to be
Antihistamine...
I swallow it one last time.
But tonight...
...I forgot.
