Declaration of the Preceding

A poison I drink made by my own hands- the only thing that can truly destroy me is myself. My need to tear away from the past is crucial to my own survival and to preserve what humanity I have left.

Poison seizes my inflamed throat with a wrathful clenched fist.

I retch and cry out with demised, blood imbrued tears

as salty blood and water surge down gauntly cheekbones.

Settles on my parched, raw lips.

Descends my rigid jaw and plummets to the crippling earth.

My lungs flood with the wretched brew of diffidence

and surge with the wails of my strangled judgement.

A shawl of ebony and spiders silk cloak my deprived countenance.

My inanimate, glacial eyes are shrouded

as a result of agitation and mangled reminiscence.

Fiends slither under my flesh

and tread through my blood imbrued tears.

Demons prowl with extended, sable appendages

from my concealed and suppressed memory.

With talons they clutch the precise infrastructure of my making

and submerge venomous fangs into my being.

An hallucinogen fabricated from the essence of terror.

Fermented and prepared by the damned.

And this is the poison I drink.

A poison secreted from my withering confidence

and brewed by my own emaciated damned hands!

I grasp the end of the silver ladle.

I provoke the corrosion of my humanity and existence.

Tears imbrued with the lifeblood of decades shed

due not to my own mere torture and agony,

but for the understanding of vile notions.

The self is a fervent disciple to our selfishness,

and a demolishing quake to our brittle morals.