Sick in September

I rested in the crook of my brown leather couch.

Congestion clogged my right nostril.

And I struggled breathing,

Through the gross mess of puffy tissues.

Each episode of Hotel Del Luna

Left me quiet in a mass of blankets.

And I struggled sleeping,

Through the painful rest of my aching back.

Today I’m in a cozy gray sweatshirt.

Throbbing pangs climb up my left leg.

And I struggle sitting straight,

Through the Guild Wars 2 campaign.

When my Elementalist dies,

I want to lie down

And sleep soundly,

Through the long healing night.

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