Cyanide Daydreams

it's only one am and i just can't seem to catch a break

fingers digging into flesh, breaking the skin and grasping desperately for bone, ripping out ribs for fun at this point, purposefully caving in my chest to make a home for monsters, bugs on barren land. exposing this beaten, beating heart and corrupted lungs, screaming for air as they drown in black blood- infected, zombiefied, virus-fulled lungs- mold spores in my bronchi, growing, forming shapes while i'm breaking down, proliferated flies swarming my esophagus, laying their little eggs in my arteries, searching for the mold thats spreading in my cells, those shapes, little buzzing wings and compound eyes combining, forming those barren-land monsters on my caved chest, deflated, eating me away until i'm just a boneless, skinless pile of rejected meat, deformed flesh abomination, zombie-like as it pulses and crawls all on it's own. sickly and seeping, mucus-covered once-limbs reaching out, craving, trying to learn how to feed on more rotten, rejected flesh.