Nauseating

My home is a temple

dedicated

to an evil demon.

I walk out of my room

and I feel my stomach

trying to regurgitate,

a strong repulsive stench

of slowly-cooked meat.

Appetite has left me,

stranded starving

with no will to eat.

Back to bed I go

laying frozen

staring at the ceiling

embarrassed of my mother’s merciless deeds.

Furiously I clench my fist,

frustrated that I am breathing

impure air

tainted by the exploitation

of animals virgin to sin.

Upset

I cry

until my face turns gloomy blue

promising mother nature

that I have no intent to harm

her precious lovely creatures.