Dead Inside

I can feel the maggots crawling inside and out of my organs, Listen closely; put your ear to my navel The whispers you hear is not of food churning But of my insides slowly corroding away by the power of mold and creepy-crawlies Constantly I stitch my skin anew My lip is now forever askew. My heart barley beats, lungs hardly creak My mind wanders greatly, when not pulled back to this pain I feel within me I dress in my daisy best Hoping to inspire all the other fellow desperates I tell my tale everyday I am despised, turned away, shunned from the rest. Is it the dead inside of me, which makes you flee? Am I tiresome with my disparaging tale? My body grows horns, my tongue splits in two, Happy no more, I ravage on you You taste so bony, with the nothing inside your vein So I must spit you out, deserving no more than a stain.