Me and My Tumor

My tumor is mocking and always there. A spiteful mass of lumps and gristle, throbbing and revolting. Itching and burning, it’s covered with sores that bleed when touched. I can’t sleep anymore because of it, and it talks to me all through the night, the venom of its words too much for me to take. Cutting and biting, it’s a mass of phobias and diseased fluids. Feeding on what I am, it suckles on my misery and grows bigger every day. Poking and prodding, I can see it wriggle beneath my flesh like a maggot. Squirming when I submerge it in boiling water, the tears run down my cheeks as the pain puts me on the verge of passing out. It gets its revenge though, it always does. When I least expect it, it’ll spread a little bit more, wrap its tentacles around my bones and laugh as I dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands. My tumor hates me, it despises what I am. There’s nothing it likes more than to inflict as much despair on me as it can. Whispering to me, it reminds me of all that I’ve lost and all that could have been. It giggles when I wince and I can feel it pulsate within me as if laughing at my misfortune. Turning my blood black, it eats away with complete disdain. It knows no compassion, all it wants is to consume me whilst inflicting as much suffering as it can. Making me puke, it fills me up with a sickness that I can never be free of. From morning through til night, there’s no escaping it. In mid conversation, it’ll pump its toxins into my veins rendering me dumb. Sweating and speechless, I’ll make my excuses leaving people to wonder just what’s wrong, but I can never tell them. If they knew of my tumor, they would abandon me and I would be placed into exile. Forgotten about with just the tumor for company, I would surely succumb with little fight. So I battle against it, fruitlessly and with much hardship. Nobody can see it though, for it is invisible to them. In the mirror it looks back at me every time, grinning sadistically, yet to everyone else there is nothing there, only the respectable man with whom they hold in high regard. This is its greatest victory, the pin it enjoys sticking in the most. Knowing my anxieties, it sinks its teeth in whenever I’m in public view, knowing full well the strange looks I will endure if I show any emotion. Inwardly cursing, I bite my tongue and choke on the black blood that flows from the wound. Running to the nearest restroom, I spit it all out into the sink. Like tar, it splashes against the enameled surface, bubbling and hissing viciously. My throat feeling as if I’ve swallowed broken glass, I try and drink some water but bring it back up. Vision blurred and hands trembling, I open up a cubicle and sink to the dirty floor. Everything unraveling around me, my body seems to be separating as the tumor worms its way from my back to my chest then down to my groin. Munching on my cock, I’m on the verge of screaming out when without warning it stops. But it will start up again before long. The hours of peace will be immense, but when night draws in and it’s time for me to sleep, it’ll start whispering to me again. All of my mistakes and failures. All of those lost days. It knows how to bring me down so easily. Not wanting to close my eyes, I sit up and bring my knees to my chin. Rocking back and forth in the dark, it goes on until I pass out from exhaustion. But dreams offer no comfort. The dreams are doorways to nightmares, and in those, there is nothing but the endless layers of hell and the screaming of my tumor. The rage of its putrid heart, and the anger of being trapped within my body and mind. But in the nightmares it’s free, and with this there is no escape at all.

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