baggage

i got that feeling again, took it home with me & its making itself comfortable, sneering its ugly smile at me, watching me suffer, enjoying every ounce of pain inflicted on me.
can't do much now, i turn on the cd player, surf the net, check out some sick shit online & think to myself, hmm, looks like i'm not that fucked up after all;
still, the sick, sinking feeling lingers, like the smell of rotten meat, the stench sticks to your skin, an invisble layer of gore, difficult to get rid of.