needles in my brain

when i try to speak
bubbles of rancid filth
form between my lips
a gurgling choking
fills esophageal spasms
as poisoned thorns
pierce the illusionist
leaving dream to congeal
a globular hellscape
of bilipid disaster
the world has decreed
today is one for silence
as i stumble miserably
through shadow dappled ache
seeking solace in the
unfinished vernacular of
suicide attempts in prose

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