Are you really sick?

Source image: The Sick Child I (1896) by Edvard Munch.

Do you ever feel like, you’re sick,

really sick,

but not really,

but maybe you are?

Or you tell yourself,

you can’t be sick,

you can’t get sick, or else…

or else what?

Little sniffles here and there.

They’re allergies, you tell yourself.

But they occasionally get worse, at certain times,

flipping back and forth,

confusing you,

tempting you,

telling you,

you are not sick.

You just want to be sick.

Just call it in.

Your head is pounding.

It stops.

Then you’re heart pounds.

Then it’s gone…

lost in sleep,

lost in good food.

But they come back.

They come back to haunt you.

You’re nose is stuck.

Your throat constricts.

You start coughing,

coughing out fatigue,

anxiety,

anger,

uncertainty.

How soon is death approaching?

Stop.

Don’t think.

Breathe.

Drown in sleep.

We’ll see, tomorrow.

You’re walking down the hallways,

with a smile,

bottling up, containing

a looming shadow, a vaccum,

a thickening lethargy.

Temporary success,

Temporary joy,

hugs you,

for an hour, or two,

or maybe for only ten minutes.

You wonder how long…

before it slips through your fingertips.

One light on,

One light off.

You need to keep marching,

hustling,

Working.

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