I spent 12 hours on top of a toilet;
12 miserable hours.
Food poisoning or the stomach flu,
I’m not sure.
Everything that was inside of me
had to come out.
I fell asleep for an hour,
and when I woke up,
my calf was cramping.
Intense pain was shooting through my left leg.
I moaned in agony;
afraid I was going to wake up my roommates.
It must’ve lasted for about a minute;
but who knows,
time is different when in pain.
Then,
immediately after the cramp,
I had to grab my bowl that was next to my bed,
and vomit my guts out.
As soon as the bowl was full,
I could feel it brewing,
the liquid shit
needing to be shot out of my asshole.
I had another bowl to fill.
I rushed to the bathroom
and just got my pants down in time.
I wiped,
flushed,
and pulled up my sweatpants.
I looked in the mirror,
sweat was popping out of my pores,
and I was a ghost;
as pale as one could get.
Out of all the ways to be woken up,
a cramp,
some vomit
and projectile liquid shit,
it has been my least favorite.
One thing about being sick,
which we all know,
is that,
it makes you appreciate your health.
And sometimes,
after being sick,
we realize that we’ve been taking our health for granted.
We take everything ‘normal’ for granted,
and it’s only when it’s been taken away from us
do we realize
how good we had it.
P.S.
This might be my shittiest poem yet.
-C.H.