Sometimes things I kill come back
Sometimes they stalk mirror images of what was supposed to be the past
My back has holes black and red and wet
I've never seen claws so jagged and sharp like
razor blades left to rust in the skin sprouting from wrinkled long fingers
My best friend died in lies and illness and a mind suffocated by paranoia and mistakes
Feeling safe is at least 12 miles away all the time everywhere I go
When I was weak I starved what fed my weaker self and I felt strong but now I see weakness has to be clever to survive and really I slaughtered what I wanted and chose meaninglessness
Gluttony and misery
Everlastingly confused and angry and hungry and alone
Real connections may not exist they are so rare and when they are lost they turn to nightmares where everything good was just a bad trip you created to forget those claws
Cut them out of you like a surgeon possessed
Bleed it all away the purity of blood is all that cleanses me now
So much so I hate it
Leave me in a bath to drown in red leave me to rot I've never been so pretty, little pretty
About the Creator
AB
poetry n stuff
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