carnalascetic

dignatio mortuus

My stomach is in knots,
Contracting and squeezing
Confusion and anxiety
Vertigo and nausea
Vainly fighting back vomit.
Ive killed with these hands,
These appendages that I believed to be so pristine
Theyve strangled and choked, murdered and slain.
The humanoid bulk lay still
Bloodshot eyes bulging out of his skull
And his mouth agape, frozen in its last attempt to scream
Yet, scream it could not
For these hands constricted and crushed his airway,
Trapping forever that final cry for help
Or was it a final plea for mercy,
Perhaps.
No, Im aware that its last gurgle,
Was nothing more than an animalistic outpouring,
Something pure from deep within,
Drawing from some ancient primordial well
Raw and untamable
Beautiful and majestic
Yet, sadly outweighed and outmatched
By the sounds of his bowels emptying themselves,
Pouring forth in a fecal torrent of panic stricken death throws.
I sit alone here,
With my innards convulsing,
Scanning the cold husk of the man.
If I could go back and undo,
And change the course of my actions
I wouldnt. I cant, so I wouldnt.
In silence I now wait
Waiting for the inevitable time these hands will kill
Pondering,
Who will succumb next.