Flea-ridden canvas.
Itching and swollen.
Driving me into insanity.

Abjection.

Murky waters down below.
I see my reflection upon the surface, but he won't look me in the eyes.
I glare into his.

Dead.
Hateful.

Is this what it's come to?
Is this who I am?

I just wanted love.
As did we all.