You grow in me
where you should not,
a tumor,
a parasite that swims
and breathes blood.
You take root
and dig in,
fingernail-worm-thing,
latching on,
and would bleed me dry
if I let you.
I will not let you.
No one
can make me.
If it is you
versus me
I will win.
Furthermore,
I will not regret it.
