Desiccated dreams

April 17, 2012
I feel the familiar twinge
Of the deep rooted itch
Crawling under my skin
Trying to tear and reveal my sin
Tiny little bugs are in me
Slicing at me with their knives
Making me bleed from the inside
This atrocious fact can't hide
My stomach is full of worms
Wriggling around with their bodies
Burrowing down in my entrails periodically
My face remains passive stoically
Bile is rising up my throat
Burning away my tongue
A disgustingly sweet taste
Thick and grimy like paste
My lips they crack
My eyes they roll
my body is shaking
It's taken a toll
A twitchy smile graces
My sullen pale face
Scorching the ice of the night
Yet freezing all that's in sight





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