Scraping By

I try to make progress but everything fails,
It seems even faith is fated to expire,
Am I the only one with this problem?
Or just conceited enough to be convinced of it?
When hell is left rupturing like a canker sore,
That I can’t help but to bite on more,
The pain it horrifies, as the time passes I weep my days,
Little have I moved yet I writhe in pain,
Such a fucking Coward, listen to the screams!

Just massaging my temples with the blaster of extremities,
A sawed off for every time you watched me plead,
“Save me” “Help me” “God Let Me See”,
But you sent only HERRR TO ME!
An abhorred abomination a disgraceful unbirth, so beautiful and corrupting my only vice made worse!


I tried to scream, but my voice was swallowed,
Choked in the throat of a god that never cared to listen.
Nails clawed at the marrow of my ribs,
A scratching, a scraping, a silent demand—
Move. Speak. Beg.
But I could do nothing but watch the ceiling decay.

Days bled into days, time curdled like spoiled milk,
The rot settled in the pit of my stomach,
Bubbling, festering, birthing something with too many teeth—
And it whispered in my ear, soft as a lover:
“You were never meant to escape.”

I closed my eyes and found no comfort there.
The dark was alive, pulsating, sucking the marrow from my bones.
Flesh wilted, peeling from my frame like wet paper,
And still, I was breathing. Still, I was conscious.
Still, I was here, trapped inside a body that should have been buried.

A voice—was it hers? Was it mine?—
Echoed through the hollow of my chest,
A chant, a curse, a hymn of something wicked:

“I will remake you in my image.”

The walls began to breathe.
The air curled against my skin, rancid and too warm.
A womb of filth, an embrace that reeked of hunger.
And I understood, at last—

There was never a way out.

So I found myself disgraced wounded by her mercy,
Yet I pleaded for the abuse like some disjointed junkie,
I wanted my fix that abyssal plague that made me vomit blasphemies upon unholy legions of flies that were born at the end of my time.

Her lies bore like veins on my skull, like tunnels that led themselves deeper into my mind,
I became frustrated by the fetal indecisions of my corpse made to speak,
I found myself baptized in something of an excrement. A husk of creation.

“BLESS ME WITH ASHES, BAPTIZE ME IN ROT,”
“TEACH ME TO SPEAK IN THE TONGUE OF THE FORGOTTEN!”
“DRENCH ME IN FILTH, ADORN ME IN WORMS,”
“LET MY LAST PRAYER BE A GAG IN MY THROAT!”

[AND THEN IT DROPS—THE EARTH SPLITS, THE VEINS BURST OPEN]

I WAS NEVER MEANT TO ESCAPE.
I WAS NEVER MEANT TO ASCEND.
I WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE SAVED.
I WAS ONLY MEANT TO FUCKING DECAY.

SO DRAG ME DOWN— I AM READY.
NAIL ME TO THE FLOOR— I AM WILLING.
LET HER HANDS PULL ME OPEN—
LET HER NAME CARVE ME HOLLOW—
LET HER MAKE ME AN ALTAR OF UNWORTHINESS.

AND WHEN SHE SPEAKS—
LET IT BE WITH TEETH.
LET IT BE WITH TEETH.
LET IT BE WITH TEETH.