The Temple of Maggots

Silent moments allow the screaming in my head to overwhelm the darkening night, her gentle coalescing to sleep undone in the wild spark of an ill memory. Hours are spent in wasted, heated anger as I relive bygone days I will never forget. O Hate, my foul lover, whose subtle curves are sagged now, a corpse clinging to me in my bed. How I courted you long ago, but what a foolish union! Is there no divorce from you? Cannot an innocence be regained? How I hated, and so suckled poison from your breasts.

Inside me, inside me, O hate, you come out like bile vomited. I am diseased by you. I am rocked by mindless fury.

Then spent, rage wanes to tears, wrath to confusion, and you, once so desirable, become the temple of maggots.

What should I cut out that you hold onto? Anything, let it be severed from my body that I would be saved from you. If you clasp my hand, I need it not. Take it. Guard you my legs? I will crawl from you. I need nothing you own; just let me go.

Yet I still cannot rest in peace.



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