My head is clouded,
nose is stuffy and red,
my pajamas have been
on since last night, and
my throat feels like
little shards of razor
blades.
My phone lay on the night-
stand, no buzzing with no
notifications.
I contemplated texting
Charlie, asking where he's
been and what I've missed
at school since my immune
system decided to go on vacation
and leave me with a cold.
No, you'll sound desperate.
I tapped the side of my phone,
thinking if I should.
But, you're just friends.
Friends text each other
whenever, right?
But..
This inner dialogue caused
a headache to develop till
I just fell back in bed.
My eyes were so close in shutting
and sending me into REM when
I heard the door knock.
Groaning, I threw the bed covers
off my burning body. Rubbing my
temple, I muttered and shuffled
downstairs to open the door to see
him, with two babies in
a stroller, and a carefully
packaged bowl of soup.
"S-S-orry, it took s-so lo-n-ng for
me to come o-over. Getting
two k-ki-ids dressed h-he-ead to toe
is so h-a-hard."
I beamed at him and shook my head.
"What?"
"Hm? Oh nothing," I nodded my head,
Come in."
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
shades of red
Поэзияwhen you have too many thorns, all you can do is paint them in red, because, maybe then, they will look like petals [sequel to shades of blue]
