How much of myself do I need to give up before you want me
I am adding to a pile of bones
I don't have many fingers left, they just sit there
staring.
can't you take them?
you are off hunting your own food, Making your own bones,
so I know you need them.
maybe at least pick your teeth with them?
Please?

I don't know if I want it to linger
Or to fog up as this subtle reminder
But all I can believe in now
Is my fear of no more

By chance my body had to be turned
So I could watch this horrific demonstration
So I could be a useless witness
Thrown away by my helpless position,
and with no way of knowing their condition

Today, I have a fresh scar
Today, I'm afraid to start

How morbidly cruel we humans are
To have deemed the cherry red rose
Slashed of its life and rid of its thorns
As the purest symbol of love

A calm winter night.

The street lights at the window sill did not seem to embrace my room as I was seated beyond my desk.

The unlit screen still seemed bright for when it carved its image in my eyes,
The glass display shattering in millions of shards piercing through my paper skull.

An etymology of communication, the relation of electrical currents through my crevasses,
The empty eyesockets in my skull ridden with blood, pus and ink, oozing out of my empty casket on what remained of the abandoned framework in the chair, corroded to unidentifiable bits of gore

A steaming pile of putrid mass desecrating the serenity of the chamber,
decorating the walls with mould and algae

A murky portrait indeed.

Tangling vines carress the oxidated heaps of sticks and bones, they feel it, they long for it
Mutilating the sheer remains of contorted steel and ivory as the ink chants its final tune.

Faded lights trace the visage
In fateful slumber on their grave
Invalidation, desecration
Barren raindrops on the concave
Surface of the hollow cask

These bludgeoned faces know no mercy
Have defied and defiled entities
The sacred deity in eternity
And find their eternal rest

And thus spoke the wingweaver
Who descended from beyond
Decayed faces, deteriorating
A putrid stench from their mouth

And through plague smeared teeth
He hissed to humanity
Beyond his barren grave

My will to live fell asleep
A cat in the sunshine
The harsh light of truth:
I am dead.

I didn't mean to
       Throw myself into the dark hole.
But I has succumbed
           myself into an ocean
       mystique ocean, it looks like an ocean
                                       curiousity

Fall, I fell and fell and fell
           I got ****** in
         Vaccummed,
                   I thought I only fell
But bit by bit,
           My body got eaten up
      Bit by bit, black by black
I had been eaten by these noir things.

So hollow. So empty.
                  Can't help
But peer more into this thing
            I fell, going to be trapped soon
    So my eyes followed down
        Gazing, gazing, perhaps m e t o o,
   was gazed by the seemingly eye looking darkness below
              Abyss, down below
I am going to be eaten anyways.
        So why not know what those eyes are.
Watching  me, is it crawling
                   crawling, maybe I'm going to crawl myself too later
       In that dark void, no surface void
                                       There's probably nothing, or more.

The room
sideways
Clutter
Dust
Carpet smells of *****
Eyes close
Room goes black
Pause
Eyes open
Light is dimmer now
Fuzzier
Naked
Curve of the shoulder
A question mark
Lost
Askew
Her body shuts down
Spit dribbles
Eyes dry
Breath Crawls
like a turtle
Blood pools around her head
A halo of purity
serenity
Time has come

It's color is Black.
It never stops. Ever.
It'll take everyone without regret.
You thought you'd be together forever.
You were wrong.
It sings it's deathly song. Taking everyone you know.
Taking everyone's lives without a second glance.
You have no chance up against the deadly reaper.
It gets nearer and nearer with each passing day.
But it won't take you.
But it will break you.
Until you're broken and done.
This is no monster or boogy man.
This is Death.