Cough Until I Shake

I have a tickle in my throat

And I cough all day,

But it won't come out.

All night I lay

In bed, awake

Coughing until I shake.

There is poison inside of me.

I know because I hurt.

I cough to set it free,

But it always stays, alert.

It scratches inside me.

Why won't it let me be?

I put it there, I did.

In my sleep, I dreamed.

I cut myself, inserted

This virus that I deemed 

Helpful to my wellbeing.

But oh, was that thought fleeting.

Now I cough all night and day

Unable to tell health from sickness.

I'll cough until I fade away,

Breathing less in my weakness.

The poison I inserted    s t e a l s    m y    b r e a t h ,

P i l f e r i n g    u n t i l    t h e r e    i s     n    o    n    e         l      e      f      t     .

Author's Note

Constructive criticism/feedback is much appreciated :)

Reviews

[Chris]

The horror of swallowing an unpleasant truth... COPD of the brain.

Horror is where we find it and how we "direct" the minds to perceive our voice. An "interesting" walk you took and shared.

[Alucard6336]

Oh me, ever be constructive? I'll try :) but an introduction is in order. They call me Bryan the Dark, which is an idiomatic title. My soul is infected and I am a poisonous one, but no more than a viper.

Anyways! I rather enjoyed this. I have no idea the meaning, as some would say I am a witless one. I love the font: I write everything on my phone, even my novels, so it is pelasent to see fonts of this nature.

As i mentioned, in a bit witless, so if you want to explain this to me I'd enjoy it. :)

[Clara Kevie]

I'm glad you enjoyed it :)
I've been experimenting with fonts and font sizes lately and I'm finding it really adds emphasis. Glad to hear the extra effort isn't all for naught.

Obviously, it's open to interpretation, but how I take it is that the poison the narrator put inside of themselves (thinking it would be beneficial) was them allowing themselves to be in touch with their feelings - literally cutting and putting something inside themselves to emphasize the severity. They thought it would be good for them (being in love feels wonderful at first) just to learn that the love they allowed themselves to feel was poisonous. Now, the narrator is infected with this lust, and can't get it out of their head. The infection makes them cough until they are incapacitated, shaking and barely able to breathe.

Feel free to check out some of my other work! If you enjoyed this one, I think The Faceless Little Man At The End Of The Hall has a similar vibe and my more recent poems play with fonts in a similar way. :)

[Alucard6336]

Night infects my soul but that is a totally unique thing to me.

This was a wonderful explaination! I like the fonts really so much :)

And I will read more, in fact right now :)