My Poem
Day one - Hmm, feels like I'm getting a zit on my back.
Damn, I hate those big old back zits. It seems like they
always take forever to break into a head, and they usually
manage to be in some place I can't fucking reach. This
one's almost on top of my spine, right between my shoulder
blades. Difficult to reach, but not impossible. Hope this
one comes and goes quickly.
Day two - The damn thing is still growing. It's actually
starting to hurt a little bit if I happen to lean against
it. Nothing very painful, mind you, just a little twinge of
discomfort here and there.
Day three - I'm beginning to believe this isn't a zit, but a
boil. It's gotten much bigger today. It's starting to form
distinct zones. The largest zone is defined by the extent
of tenderness around the main structure. Judging roughly,
by using my fingers as calipers, this zone is large, as much
as three inches across, and roughly circular. The main
structure is an area of swelling that is about an inch in
diameter, and also, roughly circular in shape. This region
is raised in relation to the surrounding skin, and feels
warm to the touch. When pinched lightly between my finger
and thumb it feels firmer than normal skin. The final
feature I can sense on this thing is a peak at the center of
the swelling. It's just a little blip right now, but I
assume it will grow over time. It's amazing how deep the
swelling goes.
Day four - The growth continues. The large zone has spread
another inch, and the swollen area has increased in
circumference and depth. The pain is starting to build.
From what I can see in the mirror, there's no indication of
any head forming on this thing, yet it continues to grow.
It's hard not to play with it. Like a hangnail, or a loose
tooth, one can't help but touch it.
Day five - There's been more growth since yesterday. The
large zone has become visibly reddish and the swollen center
part has reached probably two and a half inches in
diameter. It's generating lots of warmth, and I'm beginning
to feel like I could keep my bedroom warm with the heat it's
generating. I've taken a couple of preliminary squeezes on
it, but backed away because doing so yielded nothing but
blinding pain. This thing's definitely not ready to give up
yet.
Day six - All day today my upper back throbbed with a quiet
pain. The muscles around this growth are beginning to
rebel. I feel as though I'd pulled a muscle, or slept
funny, or something such as that. The thought crossed my
mind this afternoon that if it keeps growing, I might end up
with a Quasimodo-like hump out of this deal. That made my
day. I spent the evening brushing up on my swarthy,
unidentifiable European accent and working on my shuffling
limp, just in case I need to adopt them.
Day seven - this has turned into an ordeal. The swelling is
growing more pronounced, and is becoming harder. The
swollen flesh has taken on the feel of overdone roast beef.
Firm and somewhat uneven to the touch. One can only imagine
what is happening inside this thing. I can only believe
there is a massive load of pus, white creamy goo and blood
trapped under the skin. All of the tentative squeezes I've
given it have been met with sharp pain and the firm
resistance a piece of hardscrabble constipation grapeshot
shit might have.
Day eight - I'm hoping for a quick end to this drama. It
has become such a force in my life that I think I might just
have God growing on my back. It makes sense, you know.
Virgin birth, the Millennium and the slow torture to which
I'm being subjected. This could very well be the return of
Jeaysuss. Fuck, I'm gonna be the mother/father of the Xrist
child.
Day nine - I'm sorry to say that it's not the Xrist child
after all. It formed a head today, and it looks as though
it might be ready to pop. Squeezing it still produces no
result other than extreme pain. It looks like the large
ring of skin has turned darker, and maybe grown another
quarter inch. If I were to take my shirt off, I'd feel as
though I was walking around with a target on my back.
Day ten - Today was the day of reckoning. The skin atop the
head of the monster gave way today. Unfortunately, it was
while I was on a date. A first date with a woman I've known
for a short while. We were having a late dinner and drinks
following a play. The first indication I had of the
breakage was a feeling drop of fluid making it's chilling
way down the middle of my back. That was followed by
another drop, then a third.
I excused myself to go to the rest room, and when I stuck my
hand back there, I could feel a large wet spot on the inside
of my shirt. I went into one of the stalls, and took my
shirt off and found a wet spot about five inches in
diameter. The highlight of this wet spot was the coating of
white creamy goo that had been pressed into the woven mesh
of the fabric; a slippery coating of coagulated pus. This
splotch was about four inches in diameter, making it nearly
as large as the wet spot. The coating was perhaps a
sixteenth of an inch, at it's thickest. In all, a sight
guaranteed to repulse most normals. I tried to scrape the
goo out of my shirt, but succeeded only in pressing it more
tightly into the fabric. I made a temporary pad of toilet
paper to catch the continued pus drainage I was
experiencing.
I headed back out to my date. I'd been gone long enough
that she asked if I was OK. Not knowing this woman's
tolerance for things tasteless, I gave her a bullshit excuse
about having to wait for a stall in the men's room and that
seemed to satisfy her curiosity. Throughout dinner, the pad
did its job well enough, but by the time we were leave, it
was saturated and I'd started dripping again. I ducked into
the men's room again and fitted another makeshift pad under
my shirt.
I took my date home and as I kissed her goodnight, she
reached around me to hug me. She placed her hand on my
back. But, as you might well guess, she put it squarely
into the wet spot on my shirt, and on top of the toilet
paper pad I had tucked under my shirt. I pulled back away
quickly, only to be met by her questioning eyes. I
sheepishly explained about the boil on my back and told her
I'd had a leakage problem. She followed my explanation with
a look of growing apprehension and disgustipation, in spite
of my sparing her any of the heinous details. I rather
fancy I shan't be seeing her again, if that look was any
indication of her true mental state.
Day eleven - The mop-up operation continues. I've drained
all day, but this time I've used some real surgical
dressings to soak up the pus. Said pus has become somewhat
bloodstained today, but shows no sign of letting up.
Day twelve - back to work today, but no relief from the
steady outflow of blood-tinged pus. The fountain is flowing
at full volume and doesn't' seem to lack for a supply. Just
as when I've been confined with a cold, I find myself amazed
that such a small amount of tissue can create such a large
volume of liquid. I mean here's a lump of flesh perhaps
three quarters of a cubic inch that's been producing a
steady flow of pus for two days now. Ain't it amazing?
Well, it's been an amazing journey through the birth,
development and decline of this thing on my back. If there
are any further developments, I'll be sure to post them, but
for now, I think it's going to be a downhill slide on this
thing.
Now, where's the fridge ? Wow, after writing this piece, I suddenly feel hungry !
Eight99
