Infected, conflicted, war rages on physically and mentally I breathe shallow, unsteadier, second by second. I begin to babble, speak unclear, idiotically, insane to everyone, but her. I've been infected. It's all her fault. She made me feel this way, so mushy, so caring, so compassionate... I think I'm to hurl. Ugh it's disgusting, but unsuspectingly it feels good... No! I must resist. I need a vaccine, a cure, a treatment, I don't want to feel this way, not again, no not ever again. I almost died last time. This disease is fatal, futile, a death sentence to all who succumb to it. It creeps up on me, inch by inch, corrupting me, infecting me, the futile disease... ...Love...
UnLukii · Mon Feb 15, 2010 @ 06:12am · 1 Comments |