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Son Of Mayhem And Diphtheria

Contributing Authors: Ssv 

As the chill of death came over me and me in my pj's of detox. In my gadabout as a social chameleon. Changing spots, and offering the pox. Honing my quill with a double edge samovar spewing my rot. Of ejaculations for madmen fools from my pen of a gothic persuasion. Dripping from my tongue to your lips in my loathsome hysteria. Feeling the flesh of night disassemble of digestible words for my despicable. As your green eyes look at me from afar in my poetic justification from insomnia's nightjar. I the son of Mayhem and Diphtheria. Using powdered vinegar to cover my rigor mortis as my bones snap in geometry. The most secret and sacred shapes witnessed by the United eye of a thousand souls who perish in the darkness. They rejoice in my decay, for I am claimed by them. They suckle the black marrow from my bones, and whisper of their vile pleasures.

 

 

 

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