I was sick, horribly sick that day. Couldn’t bear the confining Sensation of any cloth lining My sweaty yet icy skin. May Be it was a sort of waking up call? The giddy nausea, the awful migraine, The violent spewing when, whole But wholly maimed In ache, I got back home. Remain, with you, I remain. Destined to a loyal, choking pain Of struggle: persist through, pure & sane.