My Brain Feels like Scambled Eggs

You

send hot and cold shivers

down my spine. 

My heart pounds,

My head swims,

My palms sweat.

You 

make me want to stay in bed all day.

You change the way I dream 

and make me slightly nauseous

You 

make me sneeze a lot

And I can't stop coughing,

so I'm taking lots of vitamin C

The flu is the worst.

Emily

Emily doesn't like poems that rhyme
which is good.
Because I have to write poems,
and only she reads them.
and magicing words
out of the air
is simpler when I don't have to stop
and... [air... bear? bare, fair.]

Why would I talk about those things?

I would rather write straight out of my fingertips
and off the top of my head
and then say, quietly,
"Emily, I wrote a poem.
It's not very good, but it doesn't rhyme".