Saturday, 20 June 2009


The words envelop and inter me,
Forcing me down into a non-descript crypt.
I choke, unable to form a single word.
Every syllable is foamy and glottled;
My tongue is weighted with the lead of a lolling giant.
I cry unknowingly as I wonder why these words possess me.
Why must they, like parasites, inflict their long, drawn-out punishments?
And so down into blackness I go, groped by the hands of invisible ghosts;
Spectres of a long-dead part of me.
I'll let my maggots eat away the decaying flesh,
Leaving just the once-ripe centre to glow and unglow into nothingness.
Seamless clarity gives way to a shapeless void.

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