La Brea Tar Pits (Pseudomonas Putida) (Giant Squid)

I awaken from what can hardly be called sleep Starving as if I had two stomachs to feed An ebb and tide of images in my mind of the two of you keeps my gut painfully empty The tar boils and churns I carve out and deny these infections on my soul and watch as they spawn a life of their own Leaving snail trails of scars over what little of me is still pure As they crawl towards where the tar boils and churns Aborted parts of my psyche are all found nourishing themselves at these pits Bubbling forth from the recesses of my mind where all I am slowly falls in Abominations of my being incessantly teething I awaken from what can hardly be called sleep Starving as if I had two stomachs to feed An ebb and tide of images in my mind of the two of you keeps my gut painfully empty