NaPoWriMo 2024 — Day 10

Convalesce

what air?     a nail
in my back is how
I know I am alive

I am a house
of disease, a
despaired urchin
hacking up
seawater to
flood the rooms

I keep all awake
with my carrying on,
terrified of the light
at the end
of the eternal corridor
that I am
hardly prepared for

I dreamt
of a grey mermaid
wearing my face
beached on a
desolate shore

I have contracted
a trickster, one
that leaves me
with clean hope
only to return
after nightfall
to steal the breath
from my
resisting chest

I croak my fear
into the ears
of all who will hear
and worry their
reassurances
will one day
haunt them

like my ghost
on the petaled
pillowcase 
who cries at
the threat
of rainfall

who conjures
an island
in her mind
where wilted
flower girls
can finally rest

Photo by cottonbro studio