Category: Poetry

• November 2, 2011

  Sick

  He woke up after nearly thirteen hours of raspy breathed sleep.Face and pillow encrusted in snot. Burning up and crying. We had to force the medicine, telling him it was inside kisses. *** “I’m running!” he exclaims, darting into the room. “Running!” Darting out again. His weary eyes begin to betray him as he pushes…