Painkillers on an empty stomach
Because once it’s too late
Everything comes right back up
You try to convince your body that your stomach is empty
As your body spasms violently until you throw up acids
You worry about your teeth
On your way to your bed
Hugging your bucket, the only thing real and physical
You rest your head, carefully lowering it
Still you feel your blood blindingly rushing to your head
Your dark room is to bright
Your quiet house too loud
Noise pierces through your ears into your brain
Your bed exists too much
Every movement sends waves of pain through your head
You can’t sleep on your back, but you can’t turn around
You can’t sob, so the tears silently roll into your ears
You can’t move your face, it has to be frozen
You want your mommy, but you can’t call
So every breath has a name, murmured against the pain: mommy, mommy, mommy
Mommy comes checking on you rarely
She’s afraid to come, because she knows she’ll only cause more pain
She opens the door as quietly as she can
She puts a cool wet cloth on your forehead as careful as she can
As your eyes flutter, you see her helplessly watch her child suffer
Your mind is far away
And your body takes control
But the pain comes with you
Nothing but the pain is real
With every wave of pain you wonder if this time it’ll be enough pain to pass out
As every second stretches to infinity
Past and future blur and vanish
This is your whole existence now
As merciful darkness unfolds around you
You calmly wonder if It’s sleep or death
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 11:58 AM UTC
Painkillers on an empty stomach
Because once it’s too late
Everything comes right back up
You try to convince your body that your stomach is empty
As your body spasms violently until you throw up acids
You worry about your teeth
On your way to your bed
Hugging your bucket, the only thing real and physical
You rest your head, carefully lowering it
Still you feel your blood blindingly rushing to your head
Your dark room is to bright
Your quiet house too loud
Noise pierces through your ears into your brain
Your bed exists too much
Every movement sends waves of pain through your head
You can’t sleep on your back, but you can’t turn around
You can’t sob, so the tears silently roll into your ears
You can’t move your face, it has to be frozen
You want your mommy, but you can’t call
So every breath has a name, murmured against the pain: mommy, mommy, mommy
Mommy comes checking on you rarely
She’s afraid to come, because she knows she’ll only cause more pain
She opens the door as quietly as she can
She puts a cool wet cloth on your forehead as careful as she can
As your eyes flutter, you see her helplessly watch her child suffer
Your mind is far away
And your body takes control
But the pain comes with you
Nothing but the pain is real
With every wave of pain you wonder if this time it’ll be enough pain to pass out
As every second stretches to infinity
Past and future blur and vanish
This is your whole existence now
As merciful darkness unfolds around you
You calmly wonder if It’s sleep or death