I place my head upon the desk,
And wish that a pile of bricks would collapse,
For underneath such dire distress,
Freedom awaits amidst the plush of spurting blood.
I cut and tear at the flesh beneath my eyes,
Seeing reddened tears run profusely down my face,
My mouth turns upwards in a smile,
For I finally have gained relief at the visualization of my own degradation.
The voices in my head are screaming,
A conflicting symphony of instruments,
Howling and shrieking whilst my dark dreaming,
Is the true burden I bear upon my pitiful shoulders.
Pointed bones protrude from skin,
With maggots pouring from my mouth,
I excrete the sins from within,
To prevent them from devouring my soul in the night.
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