I'm waiting for the toxins to die,
To be removed from my aching body.
I keep hacking,
Coughing,
Gagging,
Knowing nothing will change.
I'm so tired of this,
Too long spent trying to force it,
While leaning over the toilet,
Two fingers prodding my throat.
These toxins refuse to leave,
For once they are physical.
Unlike the other poison I'm filled with,
Which I cannot forcefully remove,
Through bile and acid.
My chest is burning,
Every few seconds I disrupt the silence,
My loud coughs cutting through the air.
My throat is tight,
I can't taste the air,
I can't go minutes without wanting to vomit.
The bed shudders,
As if my germs bother it's tranquillity.
My shoulders shake,
As I feel another load of phlegm try to remove itself,
From within my sore throat.
I'll lean over the toilet again,
Two fingers down my throat,
Trying to force it all back up,
Just so I can make this stop.
YOU ARE READING
Just A Mess
PoetryI'm not too sure as to what this is, but I often get bored and lost in my thoughts, so why not write them out? As I wrote I created poetic sentences, lines and phrases. So, I hope they can be enjoyed despite their mainly heavy topics. This book cove...
