From Soul to Skin

This groaning stomach shambles, At the face of agony. Its swirling string entangles, My vincibility. Paroxysms of torment; Burn behind my broken ribs. In this grave, here I lament; The ashen, fleshy cribs; The anguishes I have felt— Were physically received, harshly. They burrow and then they welt, Through my clogging throat rashly. My emotions weigh boulders; Placed at the top of my chest; I'll suffer as it moulders, This body without a rest.