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It’s only wearing your skin
Rot writhing within
Decay a decadent sin
Atrophy is where it begins
A Sick satisfaction in putrefaction
Watch you writhe
Lobotomize
Shallow Cuts at the pain within
Severed a nerve but not the stem
Scar tissue thickened with every try
Til you no longer recognize
You’ve become
Well versed in this curse
Pain imprinted at birth
Force fed the
Symptom cause and cure
Spun until the meaning began to blur
Forgot who you were
And now
It’s only wearing your skin
Defiance writhing within
Acceptance tastes like sin
Letting go is just where it begins
Sick without satisfaction in retroaction
Watch you come alive
Revitalize
Revolt for control from the pain within
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By “revolt”in this poem I meant in the sense that Camus and Kierkegaard use the word.
Which is existentially and without any meaning, but absurdly shouting into the void none the less.
