I'm alive but feel dead
I'm buried six feet under a barbecue party.
In a tired wasted coffin intoxicated by myself.
Contaminated earth full of urine falls through the wooden boards,
Onto my face where faceless worms feast.
I shudder when the roaches run ever so often to my naked groin, to eat from it.
The worms shit acid on my swollen face, my new tears.
Until it disappears into the worms and I become faceless and they gain faces.
The roaches eat the worms that are fullest of my face.
The last thing I hear is familiar laughter and loud music from above.
They are the ones I love the most, if I am capable of such a thing.
Finally I can't hear anything but the worms that live in my head now.
They speak disturbing things to me while they shit and eat,
But I love them, for having me.
