This burning tongue
Latched on my flesh:
A blistering,
tortuous parasite…

And for a thousand years
I waste away
Its presence known
But too weak, to eject it

And so I slog:
Through tortures long,
Afraid but aware:
of the suffering I've caused.

Still powerless
To tear it off,
slowly it becomes
Part of who I am
Part of me -

Sweat with me -
feel my heartbeat scream.
An æon of cold,
Just to feel a possibility of hope.

In the fucking dirt, it roots
Spreading in its wait.
A seeping decomposition,
Picking my skin clean.

As it always been,
As it will always be,
I can't remove this
Weight from me-

I feel my chances growing thin.
Just like the air I'm breathing.
I wish only to take it down with me:
Please let it die!

This endless feedback loop
That waits and builds
And hides its face from me…
This shifting from hope
To newfound ways to make me hate myself.

A never ending treacherous trod
Through terror, tearing into me:

A spike driven through the heart!
the only way to be free.

I feel my chances growing thin…
Just like the air I'm breathing.
I wish only to take it down with me:
Please let it die!

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