Marguerite Duras, The Lover

strangers

Alligator Blood, Nicole Dollanganger

Vivisepulture - [6/23/23]

None of this is easy. I can’t stay, yet I can’t walk away. Walking away would crush me, as if I was being buried alive. The dirt upon me, heavy and slowing down my every attempt at escape. The more I struggle the more it piles.

I cough, more, and more, and more. The ground you walk on itself is in my lungs. I keep thinking, “I’m going to die,” but I don’t. I am suffocating but the same force killing me is keeping me alive, prolonging the anxiety and the hurt. And the coughing.

All I’ve inhaled is the dirt but what comes out is smoke. For what feels like an eternity I continue to go through the achingly long process of dying without death, and I come to the conclusion that maybe exhaling is always easier than inhaling.

The pain is stabbing and burning and aching. I feel my body giving up. I feel my brain giving up. I have given up. I’m tired of fighting. Does giving up help? No. Does the suffering stop? No. But now all I can do is lay here. I’m still here yet the world continues to spin without me. I am completely alone, no one knowing of my predicament. Life goes on without me.

TBD (to be discovered)

Don't you see that this life is hell?!

I'm not living at all

Daily Drawing #69

spoiler'd for blood n gore. Human muscles and organs and... mush.

with a phrase thats just... been in my head for a while.

too rotten to be saved.