....nemesis durga....

I am tired of losing things I love. One too many scars to count. One too many wounds to heal. Mutilated, slowly, silently, steadily, I am left with a bloody, carcass of a body. The past is a gaping hole. Its a losing game trying to love angels. The loss transforms one into a homunculus. I refuse to be in pain anymore. I refuse to love anymore. The cold cement of the city will be my mother's womb. The labyrinth of this town will be my asphalt tomb. I shall forget your name, o Durga. I curse you to live an eternally happy life.