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Hemorrhagic Hemorrhoid Hacking

from Entrenched In Excremental Fumes Of The Rotting by Phlegmlord

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

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lyrics

An ordinary visit. A simple check up. A turn for the worst. I sit in the room, awaiting the doctor. Waiting and waiting. A gentle knock, the door creaks open. He's tall, his voice is firm. Asking questions, getting acquainted. Clipboard, checking off. Hemorrhoids I suspect, tender to touch. Just wanted to be sure. He asks me to stand, to drop my pants, bend over and turn around. Facing the wall, something inserts. A finger, maybe a pen? As I begin to question, my speech falls short as a clipboard cracks my skull. Still fully conscious, I hear him laughing as he digs through his medical drawer. Out comes a saw, I try to scream as the pain shoots through my body. A pool of blood surrounds my knees as he clips some skin for keeps. Painting the walls, laughing till tears, his art is his macabre. The wrong day to call, the wrong day to see, to give my mind some peace. Entrails exposed, I hang on the wall, I've become his masterpiece.

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from Entrenched In Excremental Fumes Of The Rotting, released April 2, 2021

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