PHOTOS BY Andrea Mourad

Type 1 Poetry: I Used To Sleep


Commiserate the other me

The half of me

The me who wakes from swelter and sting in the night

The me who falls from sheets to floor,

And walks with bones of rock


Heavy fingers. Heavy toes.

The stagnant swim from hell to hallway light

which slices through the darkness

like rays of sun from time ago

from before the bruise and blame of you

who crawled in me when I was small


The me who always makes it

With danger at my heels

With heat inside my hands

With lips as blue as frost

moving slow as measured mud

The me who flees from slow demise

Slipping hard

Breaking easy

With gravel in my voice


Until I find my breath, find my body

And return to the me who can stand upright,

All alone beneath the galley light


WRITTEN BY Andrea Mourad, POSTED 08/13/17, UPDATED 02/14/18

Andrea has had Type 1 diabetes for sixteen years. She is a passionate volunteer, fundraiser, and role model. In addition to raising T1D awareness, Andrea loves to paint, write, and spend quality time with her hubby. Creativity keeps her feeling healthy and positive! Follow Andrea on Instagram: @andreanicol3.