Winter of '97
by clippedtrust
· 13/04/2026
Published 13/04/2026 08:15
Woke up with that familiar ache,
behind the eyes, a dull throb.
A sandpaper throat, a metallic break,
just like that winter, a long sob.
The air felt thick,
each breath a chore.
My head a brick,
wanting nothing more.
Than to dissolve,
to disappear,
from this body's resolve,
the taste of fear.