I’ve lost track of what day it is
thanks to this sick haze,
the cold from hell
that burns and freezes my right nostril

I want to be in bed
but I have to write this dumb poem instead
because I love to start projects
and never finish them

it’s hard to be creative
when I’m in survival mode
and I’m not talking about the romantic kind
of lost love
or existential crisis
creativity abounds in those moments
when you think your heart is dead
but honestly, it’s never been more alive

I’m currently dealing with basic physical survival
the unglamorous life
of a stay at home mom
who has used countless hankies in the last 4 days
and is watching all the Netflix shows

and I mean it,
my right nostril feels as though it’s burning/freezing
and I can’t understand why

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