The Sickness Poem by angelica dela cruz
The Sickness
Burning,
slashing in me;
it festers,
filled with black
intent.
It seeks to destroy.
An infection;
it spreads,
viral in
my too mortal body.
Heat, burning up
in me.
Letting go.
There is no
respite.
Vision fades,
dark spots growing,
like ink in water.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
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6/13/2024 2:20:14 PM # 1.0.0.1119
