'Negative one' - Act II

I am the harbor-er of the locust,

Harbor-er of fear.

A vessel of death disguised as a women blushed with tears.

Years of parasitic nurture;

My body has become a menagerie of unknown species.

Developed a hunger for flesh,

They claw their way through my skin to taste the sunlight,

on their stomach acid rotted hides.

But in this manifestation through inauguration

of my silent slimy helicobacter pylori;

The host is flayed from inside out by a seasoned pathogen

with a virulent affair. 

They colonize and strategize their constant battle to abrogate me.

These vicious grounds we stand upon;

waiting for doctors to prescribe us a colt .45

for the price of a bottle of pills and some wine. 

1. These ill numbered days come with restraints 

2. shackles and a cage

3. for faith keeps us patient for the pearly gates

4. at least that's what we hope

5. to get us through the days

6. ....

But when all our gut pathogens,

start to replace our vital organs

and the color in our face.

Our veins run with worms instead of blood,

like drift wood logs in a river.

Our spine is gnawed through like dead trees,

infested with termites.

Our skin as smooth as beetle wings;

our muscles larvae breeding grounds.

Our cells split into microorganisms;

our teeth become bats hanging from the cave

that is our mouth,

Our tongue; a blind worm 

that sheds to escape 

regrows when it's ready to speak.

Our cardiovascular system will begin to transport slime

into the mouths of parasites 

that have conquered our pulmonary arteries.

Our lifestyle will go from;

neutral

to a symbiosis death.

We'll fall victim to a parasitism,

give up our seat at the table

and let our starving companions 

swallow up the commensalism 

we once thought would last forever.

I am the harbor-er of filth;

The harbor-er of vectors.

I will see you again in the next life chapters. 

- addisone.