this sickness
whispers incessant
doomsday prophecies
as it grasps
tightly to
my cerebellum
spiraling
downdowndown
into my dreams
while tendrils of
frozen lava run
through labored veins

i have lost my voice
succumbed to silence
as i weave in and out
of semiconsciousness
in a world which hasn’t
noticed my absence
the friends who seem
to have forgotten that
a fool once existed
or never cared really
unless it benefitted them

maybe it is the illness
though i felt this way
before becoming viral
and it’s now indistinguishable
as i try to navigate
an ever shifting horizon
in ever worsening condition
knowing somehow all of it
is my fault yet not seeing
exactly what the sin was

i need to sleep
to shut off my brain
until the bug is dead
and for the universe
to stop showing all
the irrefutable proof
it isn’t insanity
but clarity through
my fevered gaze