I hate
The stabbing feeling
At my food and water’s gate
Into my body.
Hate dealing
With the bacteria in me
When their arrows
Are pointed in that narrow,
Singular spot
When anything cold or hot
Just hurts. Please
Leave me alone; no lease
Was signed before
You declared war
On the space
That wasn’t yours
In the first place.
Sep 30, 2024
Sep 30, 2024 at 7:16 AM UTC
I hate
The stabbing feeling
At my food and water’s gate
Into my body.
Hate dealing
With the bacteria in me
When their arrows
Are pointed in that narrow,
Singular spot
When anything cold or hot
Just hurts. Please
Leave me alone; no lease
Was signed before
You declared war
On the space
That wasn’t yours
In the first place.