Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Poem #4

Sick Day

I'm a hot face against a no-longer-cool pillowcase,
A restless body sinking into a too-soft mattress,
A lost wanderer in an eternal desert, craving
Water, more water,
Until I'm nothing but liquids and fever and cherry cough syrup and frustration.

Digital numbers displayed on my nightstand
Torment my mind as each hour passes,
Until sunlight meets my ungrateful eyes,
And the morning breeze transforms itself into a relentless blanket of humidity.

I'm 24,
But I'm like a child again,
Craving parental pity and attention and maybe even some homemade, simmering soup.
I have no responsibilities,
I have only this room,
This stifling yet liberating room,
That suspends me between innocence and maturity
And lets me pretend that I can be invisible to the world,
If only for a day.


Marissa said...

I have a 101 Dalmatians blanket I've had since the 2nd grade. Every time I'm sick I need to be in it. I shuffle around the house with it draped over my shoulders like a cape, collecting orange juice, sudafed, sympathy, whatever.

It's the best when someone brings you soup. I hope there's always somebody to bring you soup when you're sick.

~*Mary*~ said...

I have a Treasure Trolls blanket that serves the same purpose! Childhood relics can have such comforting power when you're sick. But having someone bring you soup is definitely the best :)

Silkilove said...

Cool posts. 10 years ago I made a decision to let my daughter (now 19) keep her "blankey", although people told me I needed to throw it away and make her grow up.

Well, she has grown up, but still finds comfort in in her blanket. I can't see any harm in letting her keep it. Now I wish I had one.