A little sickness.

I've had a crippling sickness for almost a month now and the boyfriend is absent tonight for an extended time. Hello, teenage angst. Can't get away with it for much longer.


A little sickness here and there,
Is really rather nice.
An illness is beyond compare,
A fever thrilling, unaware
It floods and overcomes.

But when the illness lingers,
In your froth and in your fingers,
In your breath and in your bone,
And in the malignant monotone,
Of weakness and of lacklustre poise,
Your guts will rumble, make a noise,
Your neck will pulse, your throat will tear,
And you're no longer unaware.

A lot of sickness, near and far,
Is really rather shit,
A plague, a rot, a falling star,
A suffering that's beyond par,
And here's the fuck of it.

You're all alone, all in a flash,
Your frail flesh crumbling to ash,
Your hope gives way, your flesh ignites,
Your blood and brain no longer fight,
Abandoned and ignored in grief,
The sickness is beyond belief,
And nothing makes it go away,
So close your eyes, and weep, and pray.

He will return, and morbid thoughts take wing,
And banish the shade of suffering,
He'll touch your back, he'll soothe your fears,
For your sorrow he'll be all ears,
But till then, the light off silver screens -
Your words are not quite as they seem.
And though you quail, and weep and wail,
You shall yet live to tell the tale.