The Suffering

I creak like rotted floor boards in a hundred year old house. And these splinters have buried themselves deep within my flesh pushing further with every single step. My bones cracking beneath the weight of this demon that has hitched a ride on my back. 

Casting shadows so far in front of me that I have to look back to see the light. I break like stained glass cathedral windows in the hands of the unfaithful. Shattered, scattered in my hands and in my heart. My blood the color of rust from years of stagnant tears overflow. Drowning in dust and cobwebs built up over time. Losing all my memories, like a picture in a broken frame. I crackle with ruby embers popping in the night. Turning to ash after all of my walls go up in flames. Just remnants of a foundation hollowed out by hate. 

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