Contaminate

Don't stand too close,  
for you might facilitate.  
What dies here, within me,  
which may, contaminate.  
And it'll be much too dark,  
if, or when, it's in 'your' mind.  
And then it'll be much too late,  
to kill, what you cannot find.  
Because, it will feed on you,  
like writhing maggots, in gore.  
Gorging on your, festering,  
cerebral cortex's, central core.  
And then you'll feel, what I feel,  
you'll feel the sickening rot.  
The haemorrhaging of sanity,  
until reality, you cannot plot.  
So, if I was you, I'd be gone,  
as I'm a nefarious presence.  
And by sharing my nightmares,  
I'll contaminate, your essence.  
I've always been dead, inside,  
drip fed, death, dose by dose.  
But maybe, I'm contagious,  
so, don't stand too close.