Sickhead

Into his arm Daniel injected a deadly dose of disease.
Daniel owned a gun he was under no illusions,
Unequivocally he knew what this ailment would achieve.
Daniel switched off his music and television,
He wanted no distraction from his disorder.

Every pain, every chill, Daniel would eagerly savour.
Daniel was a Sickhead, that is; one addicted to affliction.
Like any person addicted, Daniel had become resistant to his vice,
Steadily therefore, Daniel’s dose had been increased.
Ironically, when not self-infecting; the picture of health was he.

Daniel hadn‘t caught a cold for years, he was immune to influenza,
Greatly he lamented his resilience to illness.
Flu was an Ailment he would joyfully contract on a monthly basis.
For Meningitis Daniel nightly prayed in tongues absurd.
Daniel resided in squalor to propagate infection.

Daniel’s affair with affliction began during chicken-pox.
When asked what he wanted for Christmas, ‘leukaemia’ was his reply.
Daniel was considered strange at school…He had no friends.
For money, Daniel was paid to test-drive experimental medication,
Daniel had his own agenda, concerning likely side effects.

Daniel’s been using the Redamus-Strain these past Three years,
Unavailable were synthetic diseases before this time.
Six Months it takes for Daniel to recover from his previous hit,
Daniel consequently could only ‘get down’ twice a year,
In the meantime, he would flirt with food poisoning to get by.

Daniel had become adept at infiltrating Hospitals.
He owned a Doctor’s uniform and spurious medical identification,
If questioned by security, Daniel acted as a Doctor.
Reading patient’s clip-boards to discover the nature of their disease,
Contact with carriers was established, ailments thus appropriated.

Simple were Daniel’s spiritual beliefs,
When at last he reached the pit, a health spar he would find.
Never again would sickness embrace him, that would be his torment,
And the Devil would take the form of a fitness instructing freak,
For that reason alone Daniel avoided terminal disease.

Terminal disease according to Daniel, was one he couldn’t fight,
Daniel fancied Aids, but wanted not to wait Five years to feel it,
A World of difference exists between the lustrum and a day.
He doubted the consistency of the symptoms associated with Aids,
Daniel longed to be ill all the time…we know not why.

The Redamus-Strain’s holistic outcome was diabolic,
Ultimately It would kill Daniel within Three days.
After Twelve hours of infection, no reversal could be made,
After Twelve hours, the body would swell up like a giant boil,
Daniel’s gradual deflation would ultimately lead to his demize.

Fluid would discharge from each and every orifice,
The remainder of Daniel’s life would have to be spent in the bath.
His nose would run, his eyes would weep,
Blood and melted wax would gush from both ears,
Thus he would drain and his organs collapse.

Lost was the counter-dose or perhaps misplaced,
Daniel it seemed had forgotten its locality.
Frenetically he phoned his supplier and hoped that he was holding.
‘Expect me soon’ cogently announced the voice on the other end,
Daniel was sure his man would be on time.

Very tired was Daniel now, so down he laid conserving energy.
It had been Eleven hours since Daniel’s injection,
Anon the point of no return would shortly be attained.
He didn’t want to die…too many ailments left to experience,
Daniel wished he had the counter-dose, for this was veritable bliss.

Daniel now was debilitated and his mind beset by fever.
This was the lowest he’d ever been, Heaven he thought was here!
Alas for him, his dealer was not and it was getting late.
Daniel raised his shaky hand and looked upon his fingers,
Without surprise he noticed they were swollen.

Moribund was Daniel, he perceived no plausible escape,
Daniel knew his luck was up, that Hades called him hither.
The barrel he placed an inch above his ear.
Simultaneously rang the doorbell, the antidote had arrived!
The gun went off…His dealer jumped accordingly.

(Copyright (©) 2008. All rights reserved)

Sickhead

Max Gatrell

London, United Kingdom

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Artist's Description

A Twisted Tale indeed…

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