His Twists And Turns

A great worm twists within me, trying to push forward.
If he wasn’t this ugly, I would’ve given him the foreword.
Bites cover my sleeves like participation trophies,
And I want to chew his head off for never saying sorry.

My guts are a dessert wicked men serve for dinner.
I’ve lost my self-esteem, but I don’t think I’m the sinner.
He consumed me like a meal, yet it made him sick.
The soft spot in my heart turned to cold, red brick.

When his teeth clenched my spine in a vanishing glory,
The calmness in my breaths made him feel slightly worried.
A door opened; I ran. He couldn’t even follow.
What he thought was my life was just a tiny hollow.

The great worm rots within me, screaming for air.
If he wasn’t this cruel, I would’ve given him care.
Scars paint my skin with blood of angry spirits.
Your reputation has only eleven minutes left,

Before I break it apart,
Play your favorite parts,
Kill the worm,
Make you squirm.
You gave me your word.

I hate hoarding useless junk.
You’re a rotten beast dressed as an accused monk.
Yet, a mercy killing isn’t a murder after all.
Please rest assured, no one will answer your call.
A great worm twists within me, lonely and broke.
If he wasn’t this mean, I’d have made him a joke.

-Jackie