Sickly ironic

It’s pretty ironic that I don’t talk much anymore and now I’m sick with a terrible sore throat that feels like a pool of lava when I talk. 

It’s ironic how my heart used to beat fast just by hearing your name, but now only antibiotics makes my heart pound. 

Now I’m sick to my stomach, and there’s no butterflies around.

Talking to you would burn my throat, ironically now all I have to do is breathe and it feels the same I’m sick with a cold, and some how it feels just like when you broke my heart. 

It’s pretty ironic that cure`s the same too: Sleep, Meds, and secretly hoping I’ll die