object of obscenity poetry entry #1

im so alone these days
i break my own hands in honor of the self inflicted suicide
like carving my own throat out:i am uninhabited and forced to suffer in my own cradle
lulled to sleep by a repetitious imagination
the idea birthed out of an inexperienced eye
black void of my own choked out conscious;
fade to black with your hands around my neck.

have you ever looked so hollow?

in this place:
i wonder how the spiders crawling my walls see me.
pitiful like the tire-mauled cat, my insides unraveled in a vulgar display of vulnerability? 
dragged from heaven
deviated; cast out; aside from society
watching me with all eight of your eyes
no longer am i an object of desire.

the bled out heart of the dying body, sicker each day my blood is turning cold from contagion
my affliction; only an object of vast disrepair