Sickness - Poem by Victoria Dyer
It's coming slowly,
running through my veins,
crawling up my throat,
crying for it to stop.
It's sickness that kills,
just standing is hard enough,
I think if I fall asleep I would,
never awake to see my life,
One more breath and I
think I'll be done,
Slowly closing my eyes,
I fall into a deep sleep,
The light rises in my closed eyes,
am I dead?
I see that i am in my room
it was a dream or was it?
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