Eerily missing the blood that your tears shed
Missing the darkness that held you by the throat and choked you
The dark smoke that gagged you
The dark master that gave you glimpses of a light
His punishment your vice
The disgrace a small pleasure in your life
Revealing all your demons in the comfort of this mental cage
Embracing and beautifully exploiting those painful experiences
Crawling up your legs on lonely nights
Giving you pleasure from his nihilistic annihilation, flagellation
You are truly sick for missing the bleak sensuality of your soul.
But your reality is one of pain and pessimism, existential positivity and plurality can no longer contain your soul that slips out of the bottle God supposedly held.
So you are consumed until there is nothing left of you.