Revelations
The cold claws grasp at what once could have been called a whole heart. Now it is but a bleeding organ in an empty shell of muscle and tissue. The dark angel resides permanently within this rotting brain. From my fingernails I scrape the dirt and residue that has collected over the years. Unsanitary? Quite. Revolting? Without a doubt, for that is what I am composed of: all things decomposing, dead and dying. All things evil build their home in this living corpse I call my body. What is left of my soul consists of all the dark and deadly sins known to man. It is who I am. All of these things. As I walk along the streets of the city in which I live, I can feel the scum being drawn to me like I was a magnet. They think I don’t see the stares. But I know they look. All of them look. They watch me in utter disgust, appalled that something that once looked so human can look so utterly despondent. I know they can see, feel, hear, smell and touch the evil and the death that drips from the pores of this mutilated carcass, that should, for all purposes, be six feet under and rotting among the other decomposing bodies. As it is, I can yet feel the worms and maggots crawling on my flesh. They burrow into my skin, and provide me with a piece of physical pain to distract me, if only momentarily, from the mental agony I feel. And love? What of it? From what I can see, it is the greatest evil. Turning men and women alike insane, allowing the other evils to seep in through their unsuspecting selves. Soon, the evil corrupts their heart, mind and soul, forcing them to deteriorate into what I see when I dare glance in the mirror. Love and hate, so different, yet under the surface, so similar! Both rot your soul, but of the two I’d say hate is the more likable feeling. At least hate seems to match most people’s pathetic personalities. Would that I could brag that in my life I have only known hate. Unfortunately, I too, this former human, have known love. Is it that which has made me this way? This disgusting creature, was it the outcome of lost love? To tell the truth, I can’t remember. When did I first become like this? Has it been weeks, months, years? Days, even? I don’t know anymore. I’ve lost all concept of time. I know that it is with the help of time that I am now this despicable piece of semi-human flesh. So I simply choose to ignore the idea of time. If I didn’t I’m sure I would go completely mad thinking about how long this rotting, decomposing, reeking shell has been this way. I blink at the sun, shielding my near empty sockets from the hateful glare of the daystar. I always long for the night, the time of shadows, but it always seems the days last forever, so that every human has heir chance to cringe at my face. Why? Why? Why me? Why am I the one to be like this? As the day draws on with the hateful sun continuously blaring its opinion, I close my eyes and ears to the world and wait. For what? If only I knew…
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