There must be something
going around, because
I feel run down. I'm getting sick,
no magic pill will stop the chills.
No medicinal cure for my ills.
My heart is fluttering,
a smouldering candlewick.
Bubbling under the surface
like magma under the earth's crust.
Temperature rising quick.
My body shakes and shivers,
My heart aquiver
dancing through icy fields.
Dodging falling icicles that
threaten to stick it in place.
I'm a wreck, tripping over my feet
and all the words that circle me.
Hot sweats coat my face, burning
my thoughts in place.
Whilst I'm pacing across the sun,
in too many layers to shed.
Just to hide the shade of red I've become.
My heartbeat stretches
to the moon. Hyperventilating.
Palpitations start sounding like alarm bells.
A river surges in my chest,
my blood rippling waves to my heart
until it grows so enlarged
that astronauts can see it
pounding an urgent
SOS message to space.
Panic catches my breath in a net,
covers my head in a paper bag.
Air not circulating, I'm overthinking,
all I'm seeing is a world of daydreams.
A city built of hopes and starlight.
My thoughts written over my skin.
Glowing like neon signs.
If this is a fantasy
why does it feel like a joyride?
Like I’m driving through hallucinations
of such wonderful vivid imagery.
You see, I've got something wrong with me.
I must have caught it on a passing breeze,
but no doctors nor pharmacy can help,
there is no known cure for this disease,
because I've got a case of the loves
and you are the only medicine I need.
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