The worms in my gut are not satisfied;
No matter that I quash down any thought of a future,
They are on the move to my heart.
It is already quaking from fright of the past
Now it must endure their machinations
They bore in
The ache goes through to my back
Now in a stoop where I can no longer unbend
My mind flails in terror of what I’ve become.
For they have not finished their trek.
They enter my spine
My ability to look forward
One nub at a time
My brain lay in wait; ‘The sacrificial lamb’,
They multiply and burrow
Until I resemble Swiss cheese
That part of me
Light filled and impenetrable
Is buried deep within my core
Though The Self no longer knows who and is what?
Helplessly it watches friends and family stop to leave a stone
Do they not hear the screams for help
It seems that I am human remains
Skin sloughed off
Detritus with no apparent mind
Left to sit in a forgotten corner to quietly
Unrelenting it is the worms that finally get the message across
‘Tis in a simple wooden box that I lay
No breath needed here
No longer any reason for fear
And in a moment I am