Slowly, my
souls nears a state of exhaustion. A state where my heart freezes over and
crimson icicles the size of stalagmites drip from its lower bowels and pierce
the warm flesh of those who neglected to consider my feelings, and the red fog
that rises from the open wound fills my gasping lungs with new breath.
A state
where the twinkle of my eyes are glazed over by a dark haze that clouds my
vision as well as my compassion and my pupils are replaced by a black lazer
that cuts a hole through the darkness just narrow enough for a perpetrating eye
to see my lack of compassion before its retina is burned out.
A state
where a dark tongue slivers from my lips and hisses my venomous words with the
fury of infections disease that will plague the bitten with the same ache I
endure.
My
soul...it is drowsy; it is worn-out; it is tired; it is fatigued; it is nearing
a state of exhaustion. So please, allow my soul to rest, before it eternally
sleeps.
