Sonntag, 14. Juni 2015

Long Live the King

Long Live the King

You know there’s something wrong with you when you’re kneeling in front of the porcelain throne in the middle of the night. Kneeling there, praying and trying to get it all out, get all those black, smelly fluids out of your System. That poison that’s slowly liquefying your insides and gnawing at your very soul.

And now it’s time. You close your eyes and embrace the inevitable. You open your mouth; you breathe in that cool, purified and cleaned air; your grip tightens around that cold, smooth surface; you feel your stomach convulsing, trying to turn inside out.

Now’s the moment you feared. Now’s the moment you longed for.

You know that all that pain will go away, all that poison will be washed out into some far away ocean. You bend over. Now’s the time to get it all out.

Nothing.

Nothing gets out, but hot, foul tasting air.

Warm tears run down your cheeks. You’ve lost the fight. Slowly you get up on your feet, trembling. You walk over to your bed as another wave of pain washes through your body.

You lay down, close your eyes and embrace the inevitable.


Now’s the moment you feared. Now’s the moment you longed for. A last painful convulsion and you’re out. You feel the cold winter air and you can smell the salt in it as you make your way to that far away ocean.


[That's the result of being sick and writing at 2:30 am]

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