It's a little past midnight,
And I'm a little past tired.
And my chest is burning,
With the bile I keep spitting back up.

These pain killers
Are destroying the flesh of my stomach,
Leaving me writhing and shaking my head
In cold sweats
Wanting not to,
But vomiting anyway.

I brush my teeth,
The mint burns the back of my throat,
And I feel it cooling my esophagus.

And I go change in my room,
Peeling off a sweat drenched tank top
And black shorts,
I put on your hoodie
And a pair of jean shorts
That maybe are a little cleaner.

I'm sitting in front of my laptop,
Debating sitting under a blanket,
But this sickness has me frozen,
And this infection is something
I can't sweat out fast enough.

Closing my eyes,
And all I seem to find
Are things I don't want to see.
Rest won't seem to find me tonight,
And that's alright I guess, it's all I can do to see straight.