Worn Down

my head is light
as i breathe in deeply
only to exhale a cough’s sputum
i follow it with a gasp
while clutching my worn-out chest
the morning light begins to crown my window sill

another day survived

the neighbor’s dog proceeds to bark
sunrays drift in to shine brightly
the paste in my mouth tastes acrid
i sigh as my defeat begins to show
the choice before me is to go on
or open up to accept the divine

this might be my last day

20 thoughts on “Worn Down

      1. I am glad Susi. My mum’s cousin died of it before Christmas and that is as close as it has come to us, though I hardly dare say that! ❤️

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