The Spores

It was a calamity of mild proportions. An epic coming together of Biblical proportions. I feel the pain of goodness. Something is hiding in the base of my spine. I can feel it there, telling me it will be there until I die.

I wish that things weren't like this, I wish things were the way they were before the Spores were left inside. They are not there to kill you or make you strong, just to hold you back from stupid things.

I can smell them, in my nose, everywhere. I feel them crawling through my body and infecting me. Health insurance doesn't cover broken hearts.

Come on over and kill them please. Sickness is invading my process. I wish I could tell them, show the world were it's at.

I was shivering, shaking from emotion. She placed her hand on my confused head and laid it against her chest. "Its ok, it's alright," she echoed into my ear. Ranging into darkness I felt comfortable knowing she was there.

When I am back she is gone. Someone is telling me to breath and everything's fine. I sign peices of paper to help keep me safe. This world is not big enough for the both of us.

Pain turns into rage turns into hatred turns into vengance turns into pain again.

People are fuxlin