Consumed
I have a deep unease squirming in my gut Wallowing in the sauces, flopping in the goop It causes me great discomfort and worry This small but growing threat must be dealt with Stilled, destroyed, or purged Before it can cause me further harm How though. It eats, and slithers and grows While I unsuccessfully search for a weakness A chink in its armor, a soft spot to attack If this goes on, I will be consumed And only the parasite will remain