Sweat

My fever broke at midnight, but still, I can barely move. My whole body is tinged a strange crimson colour and old silver stretch marks and scars look brand new. I had never felt that kind of pain before and it scares me that my body looks alien, and my feet feel funny to walk on, and that all I can stomach is white toast with butter. I feel juvenile, like everything I do, I am doing for the first time. When I walk I don’t know if I’m going to fall and when I eat it tastes so good and lumpy. When my phone buzzes I feel like I don’t know what it means, like I don’t know what to do, like I want distance from it.

These are good feelings, born from the worst.

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