I Can See The Maggot

I can see the maggot. It is creepy. Creeping in. Yes, not very far. Just a glance away. Peddling into my territory. My heart. There is an ache. There is pain excruciating. The maggot had a hard day at work, day 1. I fume. I curse. I abuse. I feel helpless. I cry. I convince myself of fate. The maggot had destined my fate. Never knew my fate would be at the mercy of a petty maggot. Slivered, my heart bleeds. The color is red. Bloody red. Not the kind of red that celebrates, or oozes passion. This is the real red. Red as in red. The real red. It’s gory. The sight. Heart slivered. Ready to be savaged. Further. Forth. There comes the twist. The blood is turning cold. Is it a bad omen? Or a sign? The heart is giving up. There is an eerie larva on top of the heart, a stupid gullible organ. The petty thing of that petty thing is ruling the locus of feelings and intuitions. The thump is barely audible or functional. Hail the mighty maggot. Oh maggot. Oh maggot. You rule. There is no thing such as love.