Sickness

Being sick is just about the most terrible thing
a body could go through.

A drain to the mind as well as the body, you find yourself
in a vegetative state.
Generally useless to everyone and anyone.
Knowing of how purposeless your sickly existence is
does not help you in the least.
It merely drives you to continue in your miserable way,
the moldy squash,
without change.

Typing on this keyboard has never been so tiring as it is now.
My fingers feel as if some elf or gnome has tied resistance rubber to each of my joints
and lightly coated each letter key in rubber cement.
My legs are numb.

I can honestly vouch for those silly people who claim to get high off of cough syrup.
This method of snatching an altered reality is indeed factual.
Unfortunately, I am so not in the mood for a high.
It wouldn't be so bad if I couldn't still feel that underlying ache.
As if some horrible power is squeezing my bones.
I can hear them creaking and moaning.

Ibuprofen is useless.
Even in overdoses.