Morning sickness

I’m sick

There’s this small, alien feeling working it’s way into my brain. 

It dies and it’s putrid little body festers, stinking up my thoughts

It’s cancerous. Spoiling positive thinking

Killing the “love” receptors in my brain. 

I’m queasy and old. Lost and abandoned

The only thing keeping me going is that the universe makes the sun set and stars come out 

Their cold beauty nurturing something in my heart. 

I do still have a heart, don’t I?

I feel it thump to life in your presence. 

I feel excitement and anger. 

But the poison is spreading 

And I’m sorry

M.V

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