Bzzz.

My head jimmies like a key with Tourette's and I feel
what can only be described as a sour taste in my ears.
If that's even possible.

Bzzzz.

My shoulders **** up like mountainous pimples,
that appear from nowhere, that I struggle to flatten.
If that's even possible.

Bzzzzz.

My hands are now styrofoam talons at my desk,
envious of others' measly yet cranberry soaked toothpicks.
Mine almost comfort that *******.
How is this possible?

Bzzzzzz.

I shut my eyes, and I hope he has dropped dead.
Though his black and yellow stripes should put him behind bars, he is here to stay in that never-ending cursed halo around my head.
How is he possible?