Repulsion

Don't you hate the feeling of
falling back on a bad habit?
A ghost comes back to haunt you
with a vengeance so rabid.

What goes up, must come down,
right?
Worthless, vain, no need to fight.
I wish to drag my nails
across this skull of mine;
to dig out the splinter
infecting my mind.
Anesthetize the horror;
the bloody haunt of nightmares
that leave wet, crimson footsprints
on the ocean of my dreams.
Tear down the walls of "truth",
despite reality's facade,
nothing is as it seems.

Behind the grass valley pregnant with flowers
lays a river of blood overlooked by towers.
Towers of glistening, delicate white,
(cold)
an ivory so sharp, repelling all light.