The Girl Who Had Maggots

Once upon a time, there lived a girl who was in love. And when her love died, she had him encased in the concourse of her mind and would not let him go. Soon, the corpse began to fester and maggots infested her mind.

The maggots originated from the soft tissues of her brain. Slowly, leisurely, they ate her brain as she slept. And sleep she did often. When she cried the maggots wriggled out from the corner of her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Still, she did not notice the maggots because they were clever: eating her brain tiny bit by tiny bit so that she felt nothing. But they were breeding now, and the maggot babies were hard to control. They cried and they wanted more.

One day, she woke up with a splitting headache and was left with no choice but to call the doctor. The doctor came and felt her head and pronounced that a surgery was to be taken place immediately. She consented. And when the doctor had her head cut open, the maggots came squirming and writhing out, their pale white bodies intertwined like lovers'. The doctor gently wiped away the maggots to reveal a moiety of brain left.

The girl died. And so did the maggots.

Goodbye Darling

Your love left blisters on
my heart,
your breath stained
my skin.
And now you say
you would leave.
Again.

Alright
you may go.
But first,
could you please
find me a donor -
I can't grow
another new heart
anymore.

I Miss You

I miss you.
And all I am breathing are thoughts.
I gasp and splutter and there is no
air. Only dense clouds of
memories.

The little droplets of anguish run
like blood - rolling and tumbling onto each other
they clot into masses of black and they
choke me
to the point of delirium.

In my lugubrious dose of morbidity
I cried with a thousand eyes.
I wander alone
in the reverberating hollow concourse
of your absence:
missing you and hating you
to the point of death.