Sick or Slain

what am i

The sickly body in the mirror

is it me?

can that thing... that nightmare really see me?

or do i really see him?

the black orbs in its slick gaunt face...

the needles that protrude from its jaws...

serpentine tongue, prying its way into its own miseries...

the wretched fingers, mangled in self abusing acts...

those desolate black eyes... pleading guilty to the crimes they have committed

that they have witnessed

that they have suffered....

can this thing be me?

flesh stretched across a framework of loathing and misery

mouth gasping for more than air...

for truth

for direction

for morality

the very things that the soul behind it has forsaken....

in the mirror i see it....

it sees me...

and the prison is complete

it isn't the dead in me...

i dont exist

he just endures the weight of this corpse...

this body of wretched lies and flesh....

this monster...

this abomination....

the likes of which he never wished to see....

and even less to be.

so here we delve into the others eyes,

i see into the sick

he sees into the slain.

Reviews

[♥ Courtney &hear..]

woah...this was intense... :) i love it.