I inject the poison that I made myself.
I watch as it starts its' course within me.
It devours me slowly, painfully.
I am the one who has opened wide.
And have swallowed myself whole.
I cut myself open.
To bleed myself.
But I am as dry as a desert.
Not even my own tears can quench me.
I convulse, I tremble.
I am afraid.
I don't want to be this way, but I am.
I cannot even see myself.
I am breaking.
I am crumbling.
I am coming apart.
I am coming all undone.
I am toxic.
I am hazardous.
I made myself this way.
I have only myself to blame.
I am imprisoned in a prison of my own making.
I am quarantined.
I have cut myself off.
I have separated.
I will let this disease run its' course.
I will let it consume me.
I do not care.
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY-(14/12/2012)