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