Hungover
I breathe in the sticky air
Feeling pains everywhere
I won't surrender
I won't surrender to the coughs
I water like genes
Containing information
Like protein in the saliva
I am the prince, and the king
Living in a cruel and beautiful world
I can't believe all the things I've done
Which can't be undone
I am a button on the night sky
Like the moon
A button on the morning sky like the sun
Material enclosed in the capsid
With symptoms
Time is passing by at record speed
Like contaminated meat
Time is lysis
I am the architect of dreams
In the backseat
Inhaling tobacco
I glow with faith
But my head is haunted
My thoughts are like gusts of wind
Fluorescent colours burning in the night time
Airborne allergens, contradictions
Movers and makers
Clawing
My smile melted like daylight
I am burnt out
Bone white, sclera white
On a higher level
I broke like a wishbone
Insisting on logistics
In a warren
Marked with red
It's impossible to know
What's going to happen next
I'm as silent as Mona Lisa
I've found faith in believing
I'm Egyptian when I eat onion
In a mutant form
I've realised living is priceless
Like an agent reproducing in the cell
The kidney filters the blood
It's a domino effect
A sugar rush straight to the head
There's pressure on the bladder
I don't know what is wrong.
- Author: Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: September 5th, 2020 09:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 48
- Users favorite of this poem: dusk arising
Comments1
Poetry from the unwell soul can be from a previously untapped mindset. I'm feeling you've tapped into one here and bravely let it flow into words for us to read.
It's quite magnificent and is a MUST for my favourites.
Assuming you wrote this from your sick bed. Give overcoming your illness every ounce of positivity you have. My thoughts are with you in this.
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