Sensual Poem

One Sunday afternoon I fell to the ground. A green blanket cushioned my fall. At the age of ten I was klutz to be seen. But I got up quickly and let the game proceed. I ran. I kicked. I scored a goal. My team won the game. We celebrated with an array of motley Gatorade drinks. That night my abdomen convulsed rapidly. I thought I had to pee. Yet nothing came out of me. My mother gave me blood red acetaminophen. The next day there was nothing wrong with me. During school the pain grew. Droplets of pain cornered my eyes. It was so hard to breathe or move. At last I succumbed to the nurse’s room. Lying on the hard pin cushion bed, I waited for my car ride. At the doctor’s they found nothing wrong. He sent me home to rest and sleep. I got to skip the next two days. I watched TV and ate ice cream. My days were fun but they had to end. Mom believed I finessed them. On Tuesday night Mom said I had to go to school again. I never made it until next Monday. During the night I awoke to the Reaper’s scythe in my lower right abdomen. Inside the achromatic walls I was laid to rest. Bustling behind closed curtains were shadows of worker ants. I awaited my doom with octopus arms covering me. The pulsating rhythm finally put me to sleep. I awoke a few hours later to find myself surrounded by others. Gloved white ghosts hovered above me. Poke here. Feel there. They endlessly molested me. At last I was deemed worth for surgery. Maneuvered around the labyrinth halls; I finally reached my destiny. Two oscillating doors were all I could see. The gates of the inferno were anticipating me. Pushed through the doors I was left to the white roped man. The sound of oldies music gave a torturing screech to the blandness walls. Only two dark blueberries peeped over the mask. He told me to relax and breathe. But all I could think of was the smell of wintermint being emitted towards me. Quickly a mask covered my mouth. “Inhale slowly and let me ease your pain. Trust me you wont feel anything.” He then proceeded with alacrity to operate on me. Too weak to move or refute, I sunk into obscurity.

Motley (adj.) made up of different colors
Convulsed (v. past part) make a muscle or body part go into a repetitive spasm
Finessed (v. past part) to use subtle tricks or deception to manipulate something or somebody
Scythe (n) long, curving blade fastened at an angle to a handle, for cutting grass, grain, etc., by hand.
Achromatic (adj.) without color and therefore white, gray, or black in appearance
Pulsating (v. present part.) to vibrate or throb
Labyrinth (n) place with a lot of crisscrossing or complicated passages, tunnels, or paths in which it would be easy to become lost
Oscillating (v. past part) to swing between two points with a rhythmic motion Alacrity (n) eager readiness
Obscurity (n) state of being unknown