-x-

3 0 0
                                        

I have a sickness

Bugs and bees swarm

within my gut

I wake feeling

like nothing progressed.

Cold nights

Soak in shivers

crying of the

Weakened souls

outside my household.

My days grow old

And my teeth

Begin to rot

I pry my nails off

upon my sunken hands.

White sprouts

Follicles in my scalp

The bees are scratching

Seething within

My mind.

Forgive me my lover

For I am

Sickened and diseased

Itching

Burning

Sinking

Beneath


The Surface.

         -x-


Disease RiddenWhere stories live. Discover now