its four days and I'm wearing my best suit, and a clown mask

this thing's eating me from inside out

torturing me by not answering my questions, ignorant

to my pleas and cries of help

and one day, I will lie in bed motionless

and my mask would visciously erupt

with bloodthirsty legged forms spilling from my many orifices

that have hollowed me out day after day.

I say what I feel, I feel what I say. this is not a poem, it's a statement.