Mr C

What right have you to invade my body?
You who was not invited but take up residence,
Like that of a parasitical worm, feeding off my flesh.
Travelling through my veins like a passenger on a train,
Alight in deep crevices to be nurtured,
By the very pulsating blood that keeps me alive.
Such is the dissimulation of your existence.
Permission of which was not granted in any shape or form.
Silently with stealth you creep depriving me of precious sleep,
Sapping the vital energy I desperately need.
My thoughts; gluttony comes to mind as you feed
I despair what form next your presence will take?
Enduring the hours and days of endless pain.
Is it your intention, perhaps, to render me insane?
A gauntlet laid down, challenging; you dare to make!
Well I’m here now, and that’s what truly counts
With no intentions, to be messed about.

Breda Ware