I trudge on


I try to go forward.

Everyone has it in their mind that above all
we must    move    forward.

I feel weighted,

burdened and uncouth.

I wish I were grounded,

yet my feet sink deeper into the soot and soil,

I can feel the vermin dancing along my toes

the alleyways of my phalangeal webs becoming nightlife hotspots for the unsocial critters,

whose only friends are the decomposing dead.



I can’t breathe.

A self asphyxiation which brings me no pleasure,

restriction of the lungs is always fun in due time when a ****** is promised,

but there is no redemption waiting for me in this final act.



I trudge on




Unwillingly I push forward.

Yet with every step I take it becomes a deeper reality,

I feel the cold vines dripping in slime creep up and onto my shoulders

Adhering to me like tar to paper.

If I shouted,

If I did my best to produce a primal and shrilling scream,

would you answer?

Would you be there to cut through the insatiable adhesion,

the horrific monstrosity tattooing itself to my skin?




Yes…..I trudge on..

But before I go...Just know,



I loved every ******* minute of it