Monday Morning

   Something under my skin,
buddy-boy.
  Small an black and
voluptuously evil-looking.
 fFeel it crawling,
feel it squirming.
Been picking at it all day.
   Something under the top layer,
                                 Daddeo.


Think it made its entrance
              through an old scar.
Not sure, but it
    doesn't matter now.
It's making plans,
   naming names.
And it doesn't
          like
            me.


It slithers through my system,
          burrowing deeper in.
   Wants my core.
Wants my mind.
And oh, baby, it's having
                one hell of a time.


Muscle and bone,
nothing but a light snack.
An obstruction easily dealt with.
This thing,
         it glories in
parasitic destruction.
Doesn't even matter
    what it devours,
as long as there's something to
take in.
      I'm just a banquet,
and it's got a full set of cutlery
(and sharp, sharp teeth)
             so it's gonna dig in, motherfucker,
and there's nothing
             I can do.


Getting worse,
  keep digging deeper,
               trying to get it out.
There's blood
           under my fingernails
and blood
       on the walls.
Probably gonna stain.
But, hell, that's what bleach is for.
Bleach and rags.
              Get some of that,
it'll all be fine.
First I have to get this thing out.


It's inching closer
           to my
mind.
      Think I can
feel its thoughts.
It ain't pretty, and my
             heart is pounding.
Gotta stop it,
before it gets
        what it wants.


I can feel it wriggling
       with excitement, with
                  rapture,
yeah, it knows
         just how close it is.
My neck hurts,
       think that's
where it is now.
Keep picking, hoping I can
             find it.
Making a mess, and I'm going to be
         so sore,
      tomorrow.


Goddamn thing,
       spreading evil impulses
all through me.
  Don't think I don't know
         whose ideas they are.


If I can just
     pluck it out of there,
I'll be
      fine.
It's getting bigger, stronger.
Can't believe how
   fast it grew, how,
quickly it moved.
Time is running away without me,
  it will all be gone soon.
Once it reaches the brain,
 I'm done for, babycakes.
                 

Why the hell
didn't I
      feel it sooner?
It must've been in here
                with me,
for quite a while.
It's intent on having
           all of me,
and I think
   it's nearly there.


Ain't much left of my
        skin and it hurts, it
             hurts, baby.
Oh, it's winning, all right.
God Almighty, I think it's
             behind my left eye.
Got to
       get
         it
    out[/font]