puke

i hate it here 

and it hates me too 

the walls shiver when i walk in 

the paintings gawk 

the rooms reak of loathing 

but even tho they stare 

the paintings smile 

and the bed is warm 

they'll swallow the puke in their mouths 

and shove their fingers down their throats when i leave 

their throats are sore 

their cheeks hurt

their teeth are rotting 

i come here too often 

and i need to back off 

i wish they could speak

instead of spitting mouth full of suger in my face 

they think i don't know 

but the eyes on the back of my head are well hidden 

and even tho i cant hear them 

i know 

my precence is appaling