Reoccurring sadness

Deep black liquid bile

Retrieve my wounded guts again

Frayed nerves, blood pipes

Splayed grooves

like a tide gone out

Left my organs 

to wilt in your hands

A bell tolls

Emits no sound

I know you're back

but I try to remain grounded

before you intervene

Scouring, bleak and dead

The wind is acidic 

Internal wasteland

Bitter sickness but I cannot see you

Hang out my flesh to dry 

Build a house

with my boiling bones