Pneumonia by Brian FuchsBlink, blink
I stare into the pale grey imposter’s face,
newly wet from efforts to find myself.
The veins over this neck and face
seem alive, taking breaths and
trying to find a comfortable spot to settle down.
They’ve been unsettled, as I have,
by fever, chill, by sickness in lungs.
And now the world seems to ring,
and the pricking reminders on my skin
keep me keenly aware that I’m
not in control.
Just when I feel safe and ready
to declare that it is gone, I speak and
my words gurgle through liquids I’d not known
until now. Unfamiliar with the voice,
I run to the restroom mirror to see who it is.
4.17.2008 04/17/2008 Posted on 02/22/2009 Copyright © 2024 Brian Fuchs
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