Ugh, I got so sick yesterday...fever up to 102.6...I'm better today, but still a little tired. In my delusional feverish state I wrote this poem:
My cheeks burn red
My breathing is labored, my breath is taken away
Yearning for relief, some small portal of comfort
...Alas, it is not for love I burn, but for fever.
A circle of life inside my being.
Like humanity some are worthy
others only exist to destroy.
Sleep eludes with the heat of summer
Absent of bugs
There is no buzz but a beep of a thermometer that shows no mercy
Lips are dry like the scorched desert
...like a plant that is not watered
But these plants are drenched water flows beneath the pot
But no relief
A cavalry or orange and white are called in but the battle is fierce
They have not advanced but retreated
Rally O you tools of medicine
Show yourself strong
On my own
4 weeks ago