im sick again
im sick
and it's not a pretty sick
not a meaningful sick filled with doctors notes and butterscotch flavored lollipops
no i'm sick in the head
"sick in the brain,"
she said.
im sick mentally,
physically,
emotionally,
sick in my bed
but not because i threw up earlier
nor because my breath
still stings of pedialyte
but because i can't stand up without the weight of my thoughts
crushing me deeper into my mattress
not to mention the smell of my stomach as i so un-prettily throw up another
meaningless love poem about you
i could vomit out every word and curve of your face
but it wouldn't mean a thing
and it wouldn't cure me too
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