Down

Too sick to sleep. If I were a country singer I'd have some great material, too bad I dislike it so much. My lids are heavy and my throat is raw. This sweet medicine leaves me feeling loose and mellow. My tongue is thick and my vision blurred. I shiver with the icy virus in my blood. I'm weary and woozy, I want a mother. Someone to tuck me in and spoon feed me chicken soup while telling me a fairy tale in a soft breathy voice. I'm a child tonight. Cold and alone.