My Sinuses Want to Kill Me

My sinuses want to kill me

(no, I’m not being melodramatic).

They’ve sent yellow tentacles

onward, upward,

toward the top of my head.

These tendrils wrap, encase,

constrict my skull

and force each thought

into a odd shape.

The tendrils creep onward, upward,

toward the top of my head,

between each volley of Sudafed

and I wait for reprieve

(no, I’m not being melodramatic).

Just me and my odd-shaped thoughts.

 

 

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