Acceptance

I am sat on the floor, asphyxiated. 

I am sat. On the floor, asphyxiated, by myself, the venom of my mind, tearing me up from the inside out. 

Rotting slowly and dangerously. It is paralysing me, my body and being. Though it’s just me. It’s always been just me but it’s louder than I’d like, and yet still it is nothing I’m not used to. The ants tend to come in large colonies, picking bits and pieces of its spoilt flesh. Swarming. I let them. I don’t know how to make them stop. It’s always been just me. My shadow is faltering and I do not know how to stop it. I think I’ve been rotting. It’s been a while now because the remains of my consciousness pain me, I am sore, achey and a crumbling, pathetic expression of myself, whom trudges on lucidly. I am asphyxiated.