Virus

I have been poisoned.

Have been since I made my first sound,

but nobody knew at first.

My childhood was relatively happy.

But as I grew older, I became aware of the poison I held within me.

I could feel it festering, bubbling around me,

The smell of noxious fumes permeated my skin and made a stain in the soft flesh of my brain.

But I didn't know that it was poison.

Growing up I began to understand what it meant to be poison:

You're mean, explosive, vindictive and could burn through any matter with a single toxic droplet.

I didn't want to be poison, so I kept the fumes under control.

I stopped the sizzling in my gut that would crawl up the crevice of my throat.

I threw salt on the flames, extinguished the gases.

Because I didn't want to burn the people in my life.

Because being a poison means that you'll be very lonely.

I keep my poison under control,

But sometimes it does bubble over and I make a huge toxic mess.

I didn't mean to do it.

I just couldn't keep it down this time.

I don't want to be poisonous, I never did.

To be a poison means that you decay quicker, in body, mind, and soul.

To be a poison means that the only friends you will have are other noxious gases and matters that will try their very best to burn you the way you do them.

To be a poison means that you will be miserable in life,

Because nobody wants to get infected with your disease.

I don't want to be a poison.

But there is no cure for me.

Because I was born with the poison.

It tunnels through my veins and breeds in my muscles, multiplying in droves.

I keep it under control.

But I cannot remove it from me.

I am the poison you only hope doesn't get you next.