Snails and Lava Stones

I hate colds.

My life is a constant.

It is a fury— 

a river following a waterfall,

filled with unmovable pebbles.

Which is why 

I hate colds. 

With my nose full of thick snails,

and my chest throbbing with hot 

lava stones, 

my eyes itch, 

muscles twitch—

I hate colds. 

They demand I stop my cheetah pace

chug tea with lots of honey

sit in bed and blow my nose

take a breath— 

relax. 

I hate colds,  

But sometimes, 

I like when those snails and stones 

demand I slow down.