Sat, 09/08/2018 - 17:52 -- Penola

It pounds against the confines of my head

Throbbing, pulsing from within

Flooding my skull with blinding pressure,

It seeks release


It whines in my ear, a ringing, like bells

High-pitched and incessant,

Mewling like a broken animal

Until even the silence emits sound


It deadens my limbs, cold and heavy

Blood turned to sludge

My feet carry Ophelia’s weight

All It has is loneliness


It knows what it is,

Knows not what It wants

It feeds off Its host - my mind

And It seeks relief


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