It’s getting harder to breathe
or think
or eat.
My stomach is lurching
approaching angles
fast and sharp.
It is getting harder to move
as each attempted step
is bringing nausea
and trembled chills.
It is getting harder to stay awake.
It is getting harder to sleep.
It is getting softer
around the edges
and slicker
and colder.
It is getting worse
but
it’ll get better.
It has to.
jonberger 