Eulogy Of Bitter Flesh

 

I. Malaise

I find it hard to think of the flesh that's gone,
Your shape, your form is still remembered wholesome
But you're gone, there's no return ticket, you're gone.
The suffering remains at a constant,
This emptiness, a damnable void that drains my energy
Like some kind of black hole.
My flesh decomposes now as I speak of this illness,
I hate and it worsens, I love and it speeds up
A poor excuse for a meat bag I am.
This fate which I can not escape, which is the same for everyone else
Though they not realise in thought or feeling.
Ignorance IS bliss.
I hate this, I hate so much that I forget myself sometimes,
I exist, I do matter, I am matter.
Corrosion, erosion, decay, I'm rotting with each passing thought,
Skin? Skin? Coffin skin, dead inside already perhaps.
She, she, she the absolute, the constant within my heart
She's there, the cure of my flawed depression.
I'm taking too long, the shadow stretches as she goes further away
Come back, please don't leave. Please.
Don't leave me here with loneliness
Your beautiful form, your wholesome being, come back
I'm so scared of being frightened, smile, don't let anyone know.
Sat in a skull shaped room with dead eyes
Stale thoughts, broken memories that abseil with tears
I shouldn't be here
I don't think I should have existed at all.
This fucking skin is dumb,
This body but a dinosaur,
Life has become so stale.
Never forget my words
For how sweetly yours have pattered my ear drums.
Love me the way that I have loved you
There will come a day when my body has finally rotted
My voice will have faded into silence
And I will become a jaded memory mixed in with the rest
Like the ones that stain my cheeks.
But hopefully my words will remain absolute with you forever.


II. Death Of The Self

I've touched what's not supposed to be touched
I've touched what makes us all
I've succumbed to what we await,
Slowed breathing, blurred vision,
My breath has become selfish,
My eyes vanquished of what needs to be seen.
The echo of my crumpled face bellows
Vulgar folds of skin as I slump downwards,
I, this muse of suffering remains intact.
If you want a job doing, do it yourself
Carving the air with my fingers
I kick at the particles
Scream at the sky that's innocently deaf.
This liquor that courses through me like sewage
I am aged by numbers and aches.
Let me paint my skin in peace
Blades and teeth are the perfect brushes.
I've touched what's not supposed to be touched
I've touched what makes us all
I've succumbed to what we await


III. Exit Stance

Torn from warmth,
Born cold elsewhere.
It's so dark
Where are the stars?
Stripped away.
So haunted, this ghost of self,
Don't carve me a new bone set,
Or stitch me a new skin suit
I am no longer an ivory chess piece
That was once housed by form
Now just a formless shape
A nothingness which can not be remembered
Penance for my selfish exit
Gladly taken for such a betrayal.
Goodbye. Good riddance.