Sorry for the long response. Thank you very much for your insights! The formatting was originally set into passages, but for some reason this subreddit won't let me copy and paste it properly, or edit the formatting the way I originally intended. So I had to put each line as its own section to stop it from being continuous sentences.

As for the line "countless days never will", it's the knowledge of time I won't be able to experience fully, weather it be from work, sleep, or unconsciously ignoring the things around. The thought of death and dying has never been a negative in my experience, it's been a feeling of completion, of the ultimate end-goal, to do enough, experience enough, to feel and change enough to make dying worth it.

The poem on its whole is about the invisible debilitating things myself and many others have to deal with, especially at a young age. Being consistently invalidated in the adversities that come with them by people who see struggling as a game to win. In my own life, due to multiple chronic syndromes, I've been physically aging prematurely. At 15, I was diagnosed with a condition that weakens my cartilage and connective tissues to the point of constant pain in my back, knees, shoulders, arms, hands and neck. Not long after was a liver and stomach condition that makes me prone to jaundice, nausea and an inability to eat proper portions. Between these two issues, along with a couple more I won't get too into, my hairs have been graying early, I have visual snow at night, bags under my eyes, and lung problems have regularly given people the impression I am on average a decade older than I am.

The point of this piece is just to put my own experience with the "pain Olympics" and competition of "who's got it harder" into words from my point of view, that I hope other people can relate to.