When I bleed, I bleed black.
Dusk canvasses what remains of my soul–
Pray I but one fuck, I lack.
I believe I was never yet whole.
Time turns to stone,
What once breathed life so wildly organic,
No more light to be shown,
Even a flicker—Nevermore frantic.
When asked, and asked they do,
What poisoned sweet disposition,
An emphatic, “Likes of you.”
–Resounding and just admonition.
Deprived to ever gaze upon mirror,
For such hideous fact which alludes a–
Greatest epiphany nevermore clearer,
The sad truth—Behold, I am Medusa.