Maybe it’s Emphysema, a shiny black jewel of phlegm
humming like a clump of bees in my chest.
Perhaps a tumor crawling in the crook of my armpit,
a blood clot opening like a tiny red flower in my brain.
...
Read full text
I know someone who is a hypochondriac and your poem reminded me of them. Good description! Sincerely, Connie Webb