SICK

I'm a loner,hermit,recluse being , reckless reckling child,the timid insane Kenyan, weakened by insalubrious muscles , which tend to murder me as they contract and relax rhythmically and not for long my blood vessels are liable to be abated entirely upon a deficiency of its components.

I lay.No I lie low, down, deep, covered , buried alive in my bed linen trembling, shivering ,my drowning tears unending ,soaking my pillow as my nostrils want to break up their glands and now my nerves lack impulse triggered by pain
of being alive to feel pain tiredly and only wish it was a corpse lying.

I'll like to be up, rise from this barrier killing me in the form of giving rest,my flesh is up struggling for balance but my bones are selfish they stare innocently like that moment you're confident to speak your heart out but your mouth speaks no more,a disappointment awaits,  am down still in ache.

I just have to say,I died, swallowed by pain when the heat covered me ,as my heart was frozen
and turning to an iceberg was the only thing left
except my mind kept cursing my not to do list and claiming it's never happening yet little was aware a habit was habitual.

Bit by bit down my grave it went,this time not shallow depth for a memory could tell it wasn't first,an echo of laughter was fainting meaning addiction treated reality like shame and next time it'll get harder,I like it like that way and I'll let it go if I want to.

Damn,the next time I'll be okay I'll soon forget my worries before and slowly creep back to my knees and hell know I'll be cursing in pain but, yet in laughter I'm a stupid slug who decides to take a bath in a salty pool and perhaps let it peel off my skin with torture.

I'm sorry to my health,but it's always comforting to know that we shall all die in either case.