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Emilee Wilson Nov 2018
They're everywhere
On the street, on the walls, in my house.
Crawling everywhere, on everything
In my room, on my bed, all over me.
Up my arms, through my toes, in my hair
Taking over my mind, over my senses
Covering me, suffocating me, killing me.
You died two years ago,
when she left.
Yea you're still walking but you're just a corpse with a heartbeat and you know it.
You're trapped.
She never bothered to release the restraints she placed on you so you stay shackled by misery in a room guarded by lonliness.
You sit as your heart tears at itself while your brain stands watching in callous disinterest.
you breathe,
but each inhale leaves only the feeling of drowning without the sweet escape of death.
You beg the reaper to take you, he says he wants to see how this all plays out.
He's never seen a man eat his own heart.
Everyone else insists you must keep going but,
they don't know what you know.
They don't know you died
two years ago,
when she left.
Maybe some day she'll see this, but I don't think it'll be a revelation of any significance.

— The End —