Putrified

8 0 0
                                    

I've got every person I've ever been trapped within the same body. Rotting and oozing through this one's skin and the weight and the stench is getting to much to bear. Where do I bury my own corpses. Where do I lie them down to rest without them being able to crawl back to me. Where do I go to absolve myself of the crimes I committed. I need to move on but all those past selves they're weighing me down. The flesh has begun to weep a hideous black sludge, yet I'm still not free. I won't be rid of them till I'be joined them and even then nothing will be satisfied.

PoetryWhere stories live. Discover now