The worst type of bad news is the type you expect
You feel your worst fears gnawing at your insides furiously
Your stomach turns round and round like the spin cycle on a washing machine
Deep down, below the voices in your head that try to tell you everything is fine
But the deeper down voices take their grimy claws and rip down the reassuring ones
You would think when you finally receive this sleep depriving news that you would be used to the rotten terror you feel
Instead your whole body grows stiff and you feel the shock brought forth like an electric eel