content warning: worms, infestation, vomit
(text only)

i wrote this a year or two ago, not proofread or anything but i
didn't want it to go to waste.

Hookworm, tapeworm, flatworm. I hardly know the difference. Tasty helminths that become my friends in times of loneliness. I am so often left to my own devices.

I get hungry, you know. Even I get lonely. And the loneliness sets in very quickly. I am an advanced learner. When your hands leave me and you go to work I feel the stirrings of sickness deep in my gut.

The sensual siren's call of friendship tempts me from the moist earth. Perhaps the first time was a mistake. I did not know what I was ingesting but something in the soil's fragrance appealed to me. Perhaps the estrus of a thousand larva penetrated my head without my own awareness. And they bid me to take them gently - unknowingly - into my mouth, into my body.

The sickness began slowly. It was a different feeling than the sickness of your absence. I felt hungrier than before. I would continue to eat and eat without savoring the flavor and I reached an empathy for dear old Tarrare when I could no longer feel full. My belly grew swollen despite my endless pangs of hunger. You expressed some concern but did nothing.

One morning I threw up alongside my bed. A long friend of fifteen millimeters thrashing in the bile I had birthed from my throat. As if to mourn their loss the rest began to thrash inside my guts and though I threw up a second time, no further friends were expelled.

Their secret exposed, they no longer tried to hide themselves - or perhaps I was simply more aware. The pulsing of working intestines grew more rapid and draining over time. I could feel my belly growing further, scraping against the ground as I struggled to move. But it felt comforting. Even as I ate and ate and consumed nothing of value I could feel myself growing weaker and larger by the moment. I was raising a colony on my own flesh. Visions of life as a matron appeared to me, a godmother overtaken by children. I could not stop eating for they were still hungry.

When it became almost too difficult to move I set myself near the food bowl and remained there. I would not go outside to defecate, but that did not matter, as the process had all but ceased by now. I could not communicate with the life inside of me but I felt a kinship. They were my companions in the endless hours I spent alone.

Once you realized I was not alone you expressed concern. One of my friends managed to find its way into my nose. You selected it between your fat fingers and pulled him out, agonizingly. I watched with crossed eyes as his considerable length slipped out. The texture of the worm rubbing inside my nostrils finally made me sneeze and he was expelled. Repulsed, you called for an appointment to see what could be done about it.

Nematodes, thick and slim all at once. Wet and slick, the appearance of bean sprouts. My belly strains. Something does not feel quite right.

 Ascariosis. This is what they tell you I have. Ascaris worms have nestled inside of me, long and stringy. You take offense to the diagnosis but I do not. I am malleable on the operating table, too lethargic to complain. My eyes are foggy.

Someday soon, they say the thin casings of my intestines will split apart, and I will pass. But for the moment, I am content.


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