Fantastical plasmic junk
flowing from my face.
Freaky fecal fluid
flaming away inside me.
Four hundred and two fever,
frightful fits of chill.
Forever faking sick,
until this fateful day.
Faking would be nice,
but in bed I'll stay.
About Me
- unsung_zero
- I am a beggining poet, struggling to get a foothold. Please, help me by posting comments and constructive criticism on my posts.
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