the white of my fat
molds to the lumps
of my bed.
I cannot move.
trapped
in a locked room
shades drawn,
my germs,
my only company:
mocking me
in flight.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
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a daily poetry blog (minus weekends) and a nice way to not be a procrastinator...
2 comments:
I don't feel well today. G'nite...
I hope you feel better.
The last stanza is excellent and I think encapsulates the feeling of being sick in that these microscopic entities have such a drastic effect on us. I trip up over the first line a little, but for being sick this is pretty good. In that regard, don't feel obligated to contribute here if you're not feeling up to it. I definitely understand.
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