Throat of the Past

The throat of the past has been resurfacing distasteful memories of peculiar displays of affection at your public execution. As we fed you to the forest, the trees and shadows cringed as their gag reflexes tickled. You are something most foul. Your ability to transmogrify to this monstrosity is nothing short of a gruesome miracle. The grotesque misshapen beast I see lurking and sketching in and out of my life. Owns not, in its entire being, a single fray left of the ravishing, majestic, figure I once clung to so foolishly. Faceless and thoughtless, you now disgust me. To think of the potential progress ignored in these wasted years you've barely witnessed. And the strength your heart and mind could have obtained. As I watch the heat of your last breath escape your face. I watchesd the world become a better place.