That Feeling Inside

That feeling inside,
deep in the pit,
the one to make me nauseous,
that makes me physically sick,
the brush-by move,
the perversion of circumstance,
the cowardly protection
of the self-destructive romance,
the wooing on an inner
illness to come outward
to further perpetuate
the attention-screaming coward,
the tumor grows further,
the cancer spreading quicker
with a shield to protect it
that gets continually thicker.
The death sentence calls,
the time for execution now,
never knowing what hit me,
the death toll clear and loud.