The bearer of burden returns with inability to cope with separation anxiety. It remains to torture me until I breathe and dont scream. It stays to chip away at me until I sleep and dont dream. Roots from my feet sprung like barbed wire and serpentss tongue, rendering me still a quadripilegic in an iron lung. On my back with scavengers above. The scent of carrion rotting love. Master your fear.
quadripilegic, rendering, inability, sprung, barbed