face first fetal on sweat-soaked linens…i writhe about, tortured and contained on my bed like a Trout Worm impaled on a rusty, barbed hook.
there are Aliens inside; crawling, crimping, marching, pinching every morsel of my anatomy each equipped – apparently – with some sort of hybrid torque/dehydration wrench. their command center must be my brain for it is swollen in pain as if it’s been replaced by a beehive.
every one of my 17 trillion cells bought, transformed, and flipped into a manufacturing plant of pain…
somebody, anybody; just take this cup frometh me….