Diseased

Rancid tastes overtake every inlet of my mouth.
The grotesque has a way of provoking saliva to thicken.
Dripping...dripping.
My god, I can taste him.
My throat dry; as if liquids haven't neared my lips in days.
Parasites infesting shrouds upon shrouds of flesh.
Absent.
Dormant.
Present...again.
Limbs grow numb.
My core begins to decay.
Cancerous kisses drink dry brittle bones.
Lying lips deliver deceit, curing qualms.
He it The Unforgiven.
He is the Devil's blood.
My feel-good scapegoat.
My deadliest sin.
It's time, this must end.
Grief stricken tears of insanity cloud my vision.
And scarlet droplets grace my face in his place.