Forward

The stomach bleeds

As the madness feeds

Consuming hope

With acidic teeth.

Full to overflowing

Shit upon shit

Stomped and packed hard

Compacted

To make room

For more shit.

There seems no end

To its capacity.

Is this all there is of me

As I chase my own tail

On a path of quiet destruction

Not caring enough

To desire salvation

I make the choice

To ride on.

Natasha Head