Nov 15, 2024
I will always haunt you, seeping into your pores. Oozing through your blood like sludge. Voices in your head, filling you with dread. Mourning and Morning have the same meaning when your life is a hell of your own making.
seen from Australia
seen from Costa Rica
seen from Australia
seen from Czechia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Finland
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
I will always haunt you, seeping into your pores. Oozing through your blood like sludge. Voices in your head, filling you with dread. Mourning and Morning have the same meaning when your life is a hell of your own making.
Why do you always leave? Why does everyone always leave?
You tear me to shreds
Ripping my skin from bone
Claws and teeth
Yet I still crave more
Of the violence
In your touch
Gnawing on my cheeks
Scratch my skin to bone
Bare to the core
Rotten like a carcass
Fall to the floor
“lazy. useless. worthless.”
some day, I’ll feed the earth then I will truly have purpose.
Coffins are comfier than beds sometimes and that’s okay
Oh, to haunt a village for a while then disappear without a trace
I’ll bite, what’s a healthy coping mechanism? All I know is eat fungus and decompose.