The Cold

September 22, 2008
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Thirst consumes a sandpaper throat
An iced coffee, so icy cold, would be wonderful
Or a Popsicle, fresh from the freezer, may satisfy for a refreshing moment

Congested head sluggish
Tongue too heavy, too dry
Taste buds dead

Dull eyes stare blankly on,
the glint in them quivering
with every hacking cough

Chest swelling unwillingly,
a forced breath held for a moment
before whooshing outward

Momentary calm

Fleeting thoughts of simply lying in comfort,
lungs and limbs limp, relaxed

Another ragged breath, less effortless than the last
Another suspended second
Head throbbing

A cough drop offered


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