Sniffle

My nose gives me away.

The steady drip and sniff

Stifled by a tissue.

I’m separated from the

Healthy by a wall of my

Own making.

The clock ticks on,

Painfully slow.

The viscous liquid

Stops its flow and for a

Moment I’m elated.

But I celebrate

Tentatively. Terrified

Of the sniff, sniff, sniff

That means I’m shunned.

This appalling state of being

Wraps my head in a tight blanket.

It oozes out of my pores.

The classroom is austere,

Glacial in its attitude,

Filled with desks and

Bodies in them.

Someone yawns. I attempt

To force my sneeze not

To rear its disruptive head.

It’s so quiet in here.

The lecture is long, its moments

Drag and then

Tumble by with no

Respect for my desire.

All I crave is pity,

A sympathetic glance,

Or shared misery.

I watch the room as if I’m

somebody else.

My eyes are heavy,

My fingers clumsy,

My ears are stuffed with

Wads of cotton. My chewing gum

To help my ears pop

Has lost its elasticity

And is dissolving into

Nothingness, much like

My sense of self.

I’m grappling with

My tissues, trying to

Find an unused spot.

I need my mom and

Some Motrin and maybe

Fifty other remedies,

But right now I’d settle

For a nap.