yeah.

[YourLocalDumbass]

there are angels outside the windows. they whisper to me.
i cannot hear them. they whisper to me.
there are maggots inside my skin. they gnaw at me.
i cannot scratch them. they gnaw at me.
my brain is rotting. necrotic tissue given divine sentience.
i was put upon this plane of existence for a purpose greater then my moldy consciousness.
there is mildew in my lungs.
i breathe in the stale air that festers in my atmosphere.
my decaying heart beats with a feeble pulse faint in my veins.
i rot.
i rot.
i rot.
i rot.
i rot.