Found this in my Drafts 🍒CHERRY COUGH DROPS Been a minute since I’ve had one Wish my health wasn’t perfect so I could truly indulge Last Updated Nov 20, 23 7:17 PM >Be me
>Predict my bout of illness via PI Draft
>Didn’t even get a cherry cough dropÂ
Also Don’t say I willed myself sick by wishing for bad health. The forces that be know when I am being serious and when I am just having a chuckleÂ
The intern has been coughing up a storm at the office for over a month now, and this week's sacrifice to the gods of snot and sniveling is yours truly. I'm currently sat on a folding chair in my parents' backyard, at the edge of the pond, soaking up sunlight and fresh air like an old-timey tuberculosis patient in new-timey sweatpants. Half of the time my thoughts don't make any sense. When I open my mouth, you'll hear my fever talking. Nevertheless, I'm out and about, spouting words and comments that could be profound - probably only to wake up a week from now and think: "What was that even supposed to mean?"
my tummy aches but i’ve eaten my rice
sitting in socks well sewn striking static
upon a carpet wooly shorn precise
my stomach has not taken lactic
so shutting my eyes and dreaming of shores
i wish that these floors were not so frigid
or i would dance flame friction on top boards
beneath three blanket covers lay rigid
“what do you wish” for my eye lids shut tight
wish not to explode, decompose, lay over
wish not to evade, do lax oversight
wish not to even dodge living older
no, a courageous will must brave worry
wish for favorable fortune’s journey
i am sick in bed. to lay in your sick is to lay with your self. To lay with your quiet coughing and distorted voices from your phone and footfalls of other bodies in the house moving, shadows underneath the door a certain essence of a person unconfirmed until i open or crack a sliver and then i will know for sure. that it is not a spirit come to whisk me away but a hand knocking to offer me advil. so i dream wistlessly as i lay in my sick and i hope to go be small enough to live in the nests of flowers and plats at the greenhouse. But oh I must have my phone with me and a sketch book and my partner and some clothes- maybe a skirt. maybe i will have wings too and i will go visit friends from corners where they cant fully see me- shadows under the door i could be anything, anyone, until they open
When the bar or venue or whatever is underground and you have to descend into the place because you can say some shit like “We are entering the seedy underbelly of this wicked city” “You know,” *cig drag* “crime is only a left-handed form of human endeavor.”
And then your friends can be like “Viv, you can’t smoke inside Dude also where the fuck did you find a pipe and a fedora What are you even saying” Giving you the opportunity to respond with a
“Beat it toots, you’re too pretty for these streets anyhow”
Then you remember your friend already offered to pay for the Uber XL home and you have like 11 bucks so you drop the bit but the sentiment is still there below the surface
