Grim-grey, red-crusted eyes shuck open
A dim day where dirty sheets beckon to stay
A vice-like grip holds firm the thoughts
Let slip to stay trapped in false reports

Thick treacled repetition day by day
Unequalled headache, a pacifier
Deep inside, uncoughable gunk sits
Wait and hide for uncontrollable fits

Thick wet air sinks from dark dead sky
To hang there; infect pock-marked lungs
Ventilate oxygen relief, breathe deep to keep
Concentrate belief to dream continued sleep

Written about my struggles with the remnants of a recent second infection of Covid 19.

2nd Sep 2024 – Submitted to Poets and Storytellers United – letters to our body