Sickness

Sickness
By: James Dubeau

Deep
In the pit
Of my stomach
A turning
Twisting
Anguish screams
Wanting to be freed
Bile rises
Matching mass unpleasantness
Wracked against my body
Staggered steps
Across the cool linoleum floor
Bring closer
The porcelain end
However temporary
To this wretched
Abhorrentness
Once
Twice
Three times
The sickness flows
Chunky meat
Mucus
Blood
Swirl about the bowl
Followed by
Fleeting relief

The Torment

The Torment
By: James Dubeau

No matter where I turn
Or try to think
The torment
Is ready for me
Mental anguish
Which stops the brain
From being rational
Or being sane
There appears to be no end
To the pain and suffering
I seek
At least not any time
For which I can see
Forever more
This is baggage
Which I must carry
Until the time
When the torment ends
And the cool black hands
Of night embrace me
Envelop me
Into darkness