You’ve heard of us, I’m sure. We’ve been corrupting the living since life was old enough to be corrupt.
We are why humans scrub, rinse, wash up, wipe down, and die.
At first, we were just travelers. Useless wanderers floating through space and content with having no purpose at all.
Until one of us bumped into, and sunk into, something with a dangerous potential. Something intricate with all sorts of systems that would soon be tainted with this single bump.
It was nice, I guess the first one might have thought, To feel more important than this thing with all of the potential in the world. To corrupt it.
Not all of us damage humans for the sport of it, like Arenavirus Infection, Fibromyalgia, Cryptococcosis, Tuberculosis, Cancer, and many others do.
Some are just afraid of humans. They attack them because they are afraid of the medicines they create, which doesn’t make any sense because in doing this they singularly are more likely to be killed.
Most do enjoy making peoples ill.
The more competitive ones have made rules.
Alright, they’d say, Next one to swim in this lake will catch me.
If they aren’t wearing a coat, and it is below sixty degrees Fahrenheit, their defenses are down and they deserve us.
Well, they shouldn’t be so vain as to purposefully tan their skin.
More points to whoever claims the one with the feeble immune system.
I however, do not feel that it is necessary to attack the humans. We are, after all, supposed to be wanderers.
I am Influenza. I wholly, have killed or touched millions of humans.
I singularly, as .253667IFL, have never touched any object at all and probably won’t for thousands of years to come.
And while I have made this decision and while I don’t believe that it is necessary to attack humans and while I have the potential to, I do not feel sympathy toward the humans.
It is not because I am unlike them, in fact it’s just the opposite.
If there is anything Earth’s Illnesses can agree on, it is something that we have all learned in our travels:
That it is impossible for one to pity something that shares the same potential as them.

The happy worms are where the moist dirt lies.*

The happy worms are where the moist dirt lies, the moist dirt lies where the worms are happy.

The happy worms are where the moist dirt lies, the moist dirt lies where the worms are happy, and the sleepy leaves lie on top.

Happy Birthday, my bucket of sarcastic sunshine.
My sassy baby, with so much love to give.
With the biggest heart around, always weighing you down.
May your sixteenth year of life be one of the best.

When nothing is right, but nothing is particularly wrong,
There is Samm, there to care.
When you need a lipstick encased enchantress to cheer you up,
There is Samm, there to care.
When no one will laugh at your stupid jokes,
There is Samm.
When you need to compare your life to T.V. shows,
There is Samm.

When I need something better than morning coffee--
Samm, always
When I want laughter from the prettiest of comedians--
Samm, always
When I gotta cry in class--
Samm, always
When it gets so bad we need to rent an actor--
Samm, always
When loving someone is all that needs to matter--
Samm, always

Samm is more than you think
Samm is more than you know
Samm is more to me than
anyone will ever be.

Samm, always.

I like my poems medium rare
I like my clothes to look like couches
I like my thoughts to be deep, even though they make me scream.
I like my music meaningful
I like my dancing naked
I like my people whether they hate me or love me.
I like my romance movies
I like my speeches to move me
I like my infomercials even though I don't buy anything.
I like my flowers petted
I like my animals kissed
I like my coffee strong even though my thoughts make me crazy.
I like my boys sappy
I like my girls happy
I like myself, because I am the things I like.