Pharmacon Poison in my Pestilential Playground
self harm of the self haters, comes in all different shapes, sizes, and disorders.
Unsustainable cure for such
unsatisfactory emotions
Hurt
Distrust
Harm
Disgust
Stomach acids always climb up sour
Allow punishment to commence
But not to dance with any devil
Not this time
Foolishly aware of chemical breakdown
Inviting my insides to host chemical
warfare
My protective sheath
will never tell tales of any bloodletting carnage
I want nobody to know
Although my liver, if interrogated by microscope,
will have no choice but to reveal
such personal holocaust
Nothing shy of a black sea canal
Kind of a freshly birthed stretch mark
Dugout
Chasm
Sunken
Tummy tissue massacre
Stiffened like sediment
And still, I want nobody to know
Fully comprehending
it may signal my conclusive calling of church bells,
well then it’s a good thing I’m a non-believer
Sheer cynical propensity
keeps the blue warm while flowing
And heart tar from further hardening
To utter “it’s done with”
would to present,
be a fib
To softly murmur “no more loss to temptation”,
would be my rather large fable.
No breathing shell walking this earth
is honestly honest in times of judgement,
it can never be
Not humanly possible
While every beating heart
will always be their harshest Ebert,
and guilty of something
External melancholy
Internal destruction
We all pocket our own nagging vice
for curing personal deformation
Winners
Losers
All delusional do-gooders
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