Poezja

Something works its way into me
Squirms till it finds a comfy place to fester
Infecting me at my core, imposter that just wont bleed
I'm turned away by my self, it multiplies, lays in clusters

Where is it taking me, from and to?
Why am I just letting it tear me from my golden idols
What am I, but a ghost to do?
And all I have is my bag of souls

Not worth there weight in copper
Mea culpa, or maybe. sorta. kinda, something kinda like, um.
Fuck this Life, its got a leak, and I have no stopper.
My own little nirvana built in rot, as I go Numb