This gloom forever bleeding from a puncture-less wound drowns me in blood inside-out. I swallow the insanity and poison myself again just to feel like time is sinking in. Legs growing weaker and walls getting bleaker these stumps cannot take one more step. It's blooming it's screaming it's dying this spirit inside. It can only feast on the inner flesh for so long before it refuses to dine. The fire scorches fueled of hate, blinding me and taking its course. My thoughts cannot reach it, it's far too late. I can't even hear myself think. Smell of smoke and sounds of familiar muffled voices remind of this newly become home. They mumble out "burn it down, let me out"