Feverishly
Feeding off cod
Discursively meandering
A letting of blood

The culmination of my own
Psychosis coagulated thought
Strangulated nonsense

Drools
Into a pool of
Spue

Desecrated
With frivolous ideas
Emanating
A stench beyond reason
That only I
Find scintillating

Sort of like
Maggots
Ensconced
In putrid libation
I drown
In spasmodic
Maundering

Fumbling about
In lunacy
Hungering obscurity
Self-debasement
Defile me
My every gratitude

The rope is only the tool

Slithering
In filth
Of my own demise
Bathing in its
Deprivation

Thoughts of the rope
****** sirens
What chance have I
To deny my fate

The rope is only the tool

Reverberates soundly
Surrounding me of my failures

Swept up in a
Deluge of self-hatred

The rope is only the tool

Yes!!! **** You!!!

But I
Prefer the slow
Deprecation
Of the
Blade