Varity

Snake tongues are the wombs of insults.
They lash at my skin and breed a new wound
larger than before.
And the world is no remedy,
only an oven
where people often mistake its warmth for kindness.
when I find there is no place for solace I lose everything
I am assaulted with gulps, growls, and sobs
that bubble up from my own womb.
It is only then I realize
I am the snake, the head of all aspics.
 I've hissed and spit venom into my own eyes.
Hallucinations of beauty amongst the hideous.
I starve for truth but everyone feeds me lies,
 which is just a slow working poison
designed to kill from the inside out
because this world can't handle imperfection.
So I am left with the occupation to remain ignorant of all the wrong.
 I am very literally only of value
 when I have passed away.
 Even then when body and soul have parted
 others dispose of my remains.
The venue, handpicked, by Him personally
becomes a "stinky, depressing, disaster."
But I can smile while I lie in my own fluids
because among these fluids
 are my venomous tears.
 I've cried out the poison.
Only when I am blind will I truly see.