Meloncholy

There's a hole
a gaping pit
where all my thoughts
have chosen to reside
they lay there and sizzle
they ache and burn
the thought of it
makes my stomach sour
boiling and bubbling
in entropy with regret
I threw up my insides
in place of words I never said
They clot my throat and ooze from my orifices
spreading throughout the rest of my body,
infecting and twisting and killing
they pool to the front of my mind
they rush through my esophagus
threatening to escape at every waking moment
and i swallow them
the vile feeling of blood and mucus
sliding gently back down to my stomach
makes me shudder
whislt they once again
attempt to start a fire
and wait until they begin to boil

-Eleanor Fudge