cough drop

For days, I’ve been trying just to say

what I meant to say—

“I like it.”

“That’s nice.”

“You should get it.”

Anything affirmative.

I’m so tired of feeling

like a wet towel, wadded

on the bathroom floor—

reeking now of mildew

and sourness.

But every time I try

to just say something kind,

something else jumps out—

an uncontrollable cough,

spittle scattered

before I can cover my mouth.

Something stupid, like,

“That’s great! We’ll need

to get rid of some stuff

to make room.”

My mouth keeps coughing out

a negative at every turn.

It’s not me.

You know that right?