you say I, i say i

i write without capital letters not for effect or affect

but because I’m unsure of myself, my words.

it’s a question of taste, completely subjective

this is what i’m told.

by whom? i forget,

maybe i read that in an interview in the paris review,

or at the writing workshop that i used to go to.

it could be completely aesthetic driven,

might have something to do with,

the look of the dot hanging out there, just above the i,

like that.

wheezy

i wake up in the middle of the night,

a wheezing coming from my chest.

phlegm exiting the lungs and onto the back of my tongue,

coughing  that goes for hours, building on itself.

it goes away eventually,

i tell myself it’s only temporary,

that I have good luck when it comes to things like terminal illnesses.