AnxiousMane

My Bloated Corpse

Dreams of my bloated corpse
Nightmares of the living hell I call
"Myself"
Basking in the flames that I've created
It's myself I've always hated
Hell's community is gated
A special club for those unfortunately chosen to be anointed with the yoke of suffering
Sorrow: it is on my bones; anxiety that moves the frame
A disdainful combination that pains the heart and brain
I want to maim myself
I want to end this hell
It's all about what you want isn't it?
Why don't you kill yourself?
I would, I could, I know I should
What keeps me from the blessed night
Not fear of death but fear of life
Should I not die, left here to cry my
heart out to a God that is as cruel as He is indifferent
Left to wallow as a monster
Objectified as the lesson to those who think of throwing back the kindness of the Lord into His face
There is no escape
for this is my fate
Why must God curse me?
Punish those who gave me birth
Curse Yourself for casting this cursed soul into this mortal shell
Constantly compelled
to satiate my carnal cravings
when all I want is ravens
feasting on my bloated corpse

Comments2

  • poetboy5454

    Good poem. Just want you to know whatever it is, I believe you can get through it.

  • EnoBowie

    Brutal. I dig it.



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