I have x's for eyes.
My mouth is stitched shut like an open wound.
My hands and feet are shackled.
I've been thrown into a prison cell.
The key thrown away.
Left to rot and decay.
This is unbearable.
The acrid stench of death hangs on the air.
There is a complete absence of light.
I might as well be blind.
I am diseased, I am toxic, I am poison.
Left here for all eternity.
A living hell.
Wretched, tormented, and tortured.
I am in filth.
I am filth.
My flesh flakes and falls away.
I have given up on all hope.
I will remain here cowering
in the corner of my cell.
My only companions are the vermon
that infest this pit.
The silence here is absolute and complete.
I am slowly losing hold of reality.
It doesn't exist here anyway.
I've lost hold of myself.
As I slip and sink deep within myself.
Here, I will turn to dust.
Back to where I came from.
I will be erased.
Never existed.
A mistake to be wiped away, forgotten.
I slip into oblivion.
No observance for me.
No burial for me.
My ashes will be cast onto the wind.
I will be carried away to the nevermore.
I am the nevermore.
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY-(22/12/2012)
This is addiction portrayed.
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