Dear You, Guilty Pleasure

My head is pounding but I'm stuck inside these four walls. Limits on appearances hold me captive for three more long lectures. They drag while I sleep. My bright red face grows hotter with my breath; my bed sounds so fond. I'll crawl inside and shiver under four blankets' weight, then stop long enough to escape.

Dreams, you're there. But what do you mean to me, embedded in a dream? Come wrap your arms around me. Whisper inebriated words true. You're worth it; be worth more. Swirl inside my feverish thoughts and don't wear away with the Tylenol glaze. I'm selfish for a minute, and the rush you give eases my aching. You're medicinal. Whether fling or kept, I am alright inside this suffering body. Physical ailing can't touch my mind's tranquility; a sound mind this head is few and far between.

Thanks for the silence of confusion and the screaming of want. It's worth the headaches to breathe deep and take your poison. I'm not addicted, but the sin is worth the edge.