Three days of fever and chills and before that the fog had already rolled in.
I like my mindspace happy and clear.
When the threads of conversations get snarled in my head
And I can't keep a coherent thought
It is like vertigo.
Balance
And equilibrium
Give way to delirium.
The tickle in my throat turns gritty like sandpaper
That scrapes with every cough.
As the fog lifts,The sandpaper smoothes to satin and
All is well with the universe again
as I regain awareness of where I am.
