There’s Armageddon outside, but you know – I don’t care, because nothing can make me leave my comfort zone, that tiny and so very cozy corner of mine. I already feel the flame licking my limbs, but my left leg is so frozen that it may even be amputated without using a painkiller, and my right leg is inflamed, it is saturated with dead leucocytes, it is so hot that actually the flame does no harm to it.
Absorb me, absorb me, absorb my pain, my sorrow, my tears, my sobbing, my weeping, my periods, my saliva, my memories – there still is something to absorb.
All right, who’s the winner? In sooth, not you. I’m still in my shell, concealed, feeling a bit disturbed and dizzy, surrounded by colorful blurred images of my defender, though he himself is incredibly insecure.
In my dreams I squeeze you, I tear your goddamn body to thousands of bloody pieces, but nothing helps – you’re a scum, you’re so evil, so hypocritical, that I can’t endure it and my shell is creased. You are trying to cramp all your curses inside of it, well, let it be! Action is supposed to be completed when my own infinity comes back.
My body is scorched, it aches, it is covered with ulcers, and it bleeds heavily. My shriek of agony explodes the walls. I’m trapped.
She takes her axe and does what she is supposed to do – she stabs me with it, the wound is exactly on fate line, and down the hand the fracture appears, my heart glows, who is she? My godlike fallacy.
There are two symmetrical small and deep holes in my throbbing temples, and streams of pus and bile ooze slowly. A cramping smile on my face, my nasal canals are torn, stains of clotted blood all over me, but I’m sure I see my infinity coming back to me, I will definitely find solace near it – these thoughts are probably the last that belong to me, my consciousness still floats deep inside of me, but within each and every second it becomes more and more dissolved in its own pain.
As soon as you do it, soak my body in oil, boil it, sprinkle some drops of liquid wax. Caution: avoid making your hands filthy, wear blessed gloves.
Scatter my grief all around you. You’ll never know.
I am such a creep that my brothers dream of finding me dead, wandering in the forest and coming across my wounded corpse, no one will ever decease it. Dreams come true, don’t they? I beg you: let me decay peacefully.