Flu

My head is split
three ways,
like kindling
waiting to start
a fever fire.

My throat aches
when I try to talk,
when I cough,
when I breathe.

I long to escape the pain,
seeking somewhat relief
in pharmacist medication.

My life energy
is diverted
to viral warfare.
I age suddenly,
walking with weary gait
and down-turned gaze.

Multiple destinations of discomfort
compete for my attention,
all unwelcome visitors.

Pain makes itself powerfully
at home
as the virus blankets me.

It runs its cursed course
through my life,
all the while
stealthily seeking
its next victim to infect.