Beneath
the inflamed flesh of your tender pulp
swells
an angry cyst, filling and spreading with time.
There
is no head for release, no channels for detour.
Rather,
lethargy bears down steady, thick and heavy.
This
is an abnormal chain of events, which have been
unraveling
and subsequently tangling for the past several days.
Spiraled
into an infuriating state of implosion,
your
movements are loose and frequent.
Runny
and flecked with blood, your mind seeps
through
its own cracks, proving that eternity is inevitable.
Despite
the fresh samples your heart provides,
the
crafty little parasites go undetected.
Invisible
energy-suckers ride on your wings
as
your feathers wilt and deteriorate like antique doilies.
You
arrive five minutes late and leave in the nick of time.
But
the diagnosis is timeless and only a possibility.
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