I see this creature at the ends of my sight, every night and every waking hour during the day, it bends like I do , and it shows the fangs which I keep hidden most of the time. It smiles when I pretend to be compassion
He shows himself never complete, like myself he dances with naked feet on ice. He prances on fields of corpses. When I look behind, he jumps on top of my head, grabs my divinity, makes me twist. Makes me swing to his tune.
I believe that I hallucinate of my own flesh, I understand that I am long dead, rotting under the cancerous ground of this earth, but if this is so , why cant I let go of myself as this other, this other which comes and never leaves,
I pour like water, I go like the wind to the corner of the world. But there is no respite from the visions which I encounter,
No words which I describe, the love which doesn’t compare.
Creatures which sucks my dead dried blood from the ground, the one which growls when I groan. The one which howls when I cry.
The pain of falsehood in my head, is now blooming, is now ripening in blood.
There is no respite in this world or in non-existence. The visions never stop.
I lose myself in pain. Pain not like the one which is experienced. This is pain which I have become , pain which is all consuming.
Visions which I could have been let of without being. Visions here and visions there.
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