Mouthbreather

Disease danced in and out
of her gaping pores,
warned everyone around her
that sick was coming
with mouthbreathing
and nose blowing
with a box of thin depleting tissues in hand.
The medicines had
been left at home,
false promises discovered and resented
when all they did
was cost money and taste
of badly burnt chemicals.
Her face changed
in the midst of a weakened body,
somehow puffy and thinner
simultaneously,
eyes half closed in exhaustion,
wishing only to sleep,
and the fear of sleeping,
when she’d only wake up feeling so much worse.
She’d hoped to sit down
on the tram,
to allow
her weakened body a rest,
but the seats were taken
by other victims of
changing weather and opportunistic parasites,
plague of the Fall,
and tourists who didn’t know to get up,
but spoke in different tongues,
eyes confused and maps held sideways.
And so she stood,
gripping the yellow bar like a lifeline,
an umbilical cord to standing
with a frail pale hand,
sorry for her germs
that she knew must be scaling that vertical yellow mountain
at that exact moment,
lying in wait for another victim,
prey of the misconceptions
that holding the bar helped any.
But, she had to get to the doctor somehow.
If only she’d the money for a cab.

Spoiler

I'm sick at home with strep throat. Apparently, I write about being sick when I'm sick.

awww poor little lady. You have described a disease successfully. With all it's bothering points, and teasing details, I almost got sick myself. Nice work, I enjoyed your poem.

I always feel bad for people like this. They're just sick, people need to get over it. Although, she does seem very sick, like beyond just the strep that you had. (By the way, I hope you get better soon). I liked the details.

I have a cold at this very moment (...which is how I got my username...fail...), so I can relate to this poem really well! *sniff*. Some minor criticisms, though. It would be clearer if it were broken into stanzas - only two or three - just for legibility's sake.

that she knew must be scaling that vertical yellow mountain

The imagery seems a little forced. It's unnecessary - is the bar really a "mountain"?

with a box of thin depleting tissues in hand.

I think you need a comma after "thin"

by other victims of
changing weather and opportunistic parasites,
plague of the Fall,

This is my favorite part

Some of your enjambment is a little awkward, but other than that, this poem is perfect! Great job!

I feel really bad for peoples like this. Anyway, I enjoyed reading it. Keep on writing because you can write really well.


Good luck and keep writing,

Alicia.

Amazing! Just simply amazing! I love it, it was a WOW moment! *rounds of applause*

The pace of this is quite fast, and yet it tells the story really well. It has a feel of urgency to it, which suits it by the way.
It's kind of sad too, the girl not being able to afford to get help. You did a good job capturing what most people ignore.

Write more soon!
~Crazy