Illness to me
Implies a weakness of the self
But a beautiful, submissive
Weakness
That says
Okay dear virus
Tie my hands to the bed
And take me over
Wear me out
With all your symptoms
Make me so sick this time
That when I crawl out of this tunnel
I will see the light with new hope
As if looking into the eyes of a freshly
Born baby
Make me so frail
And fragile
That even a whisper
Could tear my flesh
I’ve been scratched by the claws
Of sickness and survived
But
Love makes me feel anemic
I’m searching desperately
For a cure
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