Pinnacle of Suffering

I bleed From every pore Fatal error Leaves a living corpse My skin Melts from my bones Eyes peeled open Pain no one should know Pain no one should know Rotting in bed My will is yours Braindead Still I endure Fluid builds inside my lungs Cells die one by one Die Slow Every minute Inching closer to death But that shit's at least like six fucking miles away Time stands still Deteriorate At the pinnacle of suffering For eighty-three days My body is killing itself Slowest death imaginable Die Slow Die Slow