Insecticide

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My bones are ice cold.
Fire doesn't melt me.
Insects crawl under my skin
Gnawing at my organs and breaking skin.

Eats away. Eats away.
Pitiful being,
Why do you weep?
Are you not used to this pain?
Feel the thousands of legs
Fill your tissues and being.

My whole body shakes and
Trembles with these tiny creatures,
Inside.
Thoughts of a normal painless life
Are nothing but a fantasy in my dreams.
Pain, pain...

Sharp edges of hot knives
Pierce my skin
The insects flutter and scurry
And crawl around my organic self.

The organisms are covered in my blood,
Their mouths filled with the thick liquid of pain.
They feed on me.
Make me weak, make me tremble on my knees.
Eyes swimming.
Eyes painfully wide in surprise.
They eat me
Raw.

Worms encase my heart,
Hollowed bones filled with maggots.
And intestines infested with cicadas.

Spiders come out my mouth,
Onto the floor like vomited
Words I regret.

The tiny creatures exit my body,
My nose,
My chest,
My bone marrow,
My legs,
And onto the floor.




My weak being collapses, unfilled.
And I can't even live anymore in this
World I hate.
Loathe, even.
Detest.
Detest!
I hate this world!

Hate. Is a powerless word on my tongue.





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Sparkle345 said...
Jul. 26, 2011 at 9:56 pm
amazing! is all i can say
 
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