Obsession
with all the things that
find it's way
into
the crevices of the mind.
It infiltrates the body
in and through the intestines
until it bleeds out the belly and convulses towards the floor.
Untamed,
it is an animal of your mind
and that alone makes it tepid, trepid, intrepid.
Bursting. Overflowing. Spilling in
and containing out
until you can't consume it anymore.
But you fail to feel the fullness.
Satiated.
Sickness
is almost felt but you know it is more
feigned and an imagination of the
mind that pushes through
to find itself cold.
Chattering, shivering.
Until you look the phantom in the eye
and I just see me.
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