Lump

What is this great lump

of flesh

I see before me?

Surely not?

Surely this can’t 

belong to yours

truly?

Disgusted, the

days that follow

are blacker than usual

and seems to hold

a stink. 

Is this…

Is this my body?

My temple?

My home?

Amongst all of this fat

I feel terribly alone.

Don’t wake,

don’t open your eyes

as I bare my wounds,

you mustn’t see

beneath me,

you mustn’t see the lies

I cling to

when nothing else

seems of much use.

What is this great lump

of flesh

and what is it ever

going to possess?

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