huggy bowl

Christmas Hug


God! I never get sick,

24 hour stomach virus,

The waves of nausea,

Each one seems longer than the next,

And then cold sweats,

Kick covers off,

Pull covers up,

Moan a little, so I can hear I'm still alive.


Oh how I hate nausea.


Finally, 3:30 a.m.

I purge, gratefully so,

And my throat burns,

The taste is awful,

And I curl up like a kitten in bed

To listen to the wind howl outside my window.

It's warm and I feel comforted.


I doze off thinking next time 

I'll be more sensitive about my needs

So I don't have to puke my guts up

To feel comforted.


I hate nausea,

Oh I hate it

Like another Christmas spent

With everyone else but you.



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