She whispers to me,
a mystical voice filled with never-ending pain and misery.
Hauntingly beautiful in her endless torment,
her destructive agony.
Her disillusioned eyes burn through me, searing my soul,
as she begs me to just let her go.

Degraded and defiled, persecuted and thrown out into exile.
She became a soulless being residing in a rotting corpse.
No longer human, not quite a ghost,
but rather a combination of the two filled with remorse.

I look upon her grief stricken face in my dreams,
my heart skipping beats as it picks up the pace.
Growing cold and numb staring in disbelief,
I realize the disgusting truth in shameful disgrace.

I am her,
she is me,
a mind-numbing fact I can’t escape,
a reality that sickens me.

I am the being touched by rot and decay.
I am the one on which the hand of archaic evil chose to lay.
No longer pure, forever soiled,
my soul is damned my body permanently spoiled.

A tainted creature residing in a human shell.
Pathetic twisted being damned long ago to remain in hell.
Neither loved or hated, always alone, forever jaded.

I wrap myself in enslaving solitude.
Locking myself in, effectively shutting everyone out.
I refuse to spread the darkness in me,
I refuse to contaminate anyone with its evil glee.

THIS IS ME, FOR I AM SHE!