sickness

Izzi Lynn

i. your cough festers in your chest like a field-mouse's corpse. yes there is carrion heavy in your cold cold chest. cough up your lungs, spit them out; keep breathing, keep breathing. cold air in, warm air out, the ice you see outside is not inside you. (belief is a powerful thing). 

ii. something tells you your blood is sour. do you believe it? open up a vein and take a taste, but if it tastes bittersweet, i advise you pretend you didn't try it in the first place. and if your blood is black, pretend you didn't see it and take another dose of painkillers. 

iii. there are crows watching, waiting. your eyes are delicacies to scavengers. your skin is fever-hot and hands clammy against the silk sheets. the sky is bluer than you've ever seen except you're inside and you cannot see the sky. is this heaven? is this hell? there is wet, dirty snow weighing heavy beneath your skin and infection in your soul. 

  • Author: Izzi Lynn (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 4th, 2018 17:14
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 14
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Comments1

  • sylviasearcher

    What beautiful prose to describe a despair



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