Almost comical
How something so small
Can make your bones feel like glass.

Almost a joke
How it spreads faster than joy
Tries to **** the light inside.

It ravages
So bloodthirsty it's blinded by sense
It will die too.

Throat raw from hard-fought breaths.
Tongue dry, too weak to say what's wrong.
Teeth crack and chatter from blood-deep cold.

The head is a ten-ton-ball balanced on a needle's edge.
It will plunge off the edge at the slightest push
And land with a wet squelch into lungs
Devoured by phlegm.

Every artery, vessel, vein and capillary is blocked.
A vile sludge sticks and oozes through
A suave and unwelcome guest.

The heart tries to break through its boney cage.
Frantic.
Fear of poison makes it bleet.
A lost lamb.

It will be done soon.
You cannot outrun the sickness.