Ghastly orange moon

There's this ghastly orange moon outside, like some rotten peach, festering, ready to burst, much like my soul. My own body cannot contain such blind hate, despair and agony, all at once. It seems like apart from blind i've also been rather deaf to the people around be, to my own thoughts, to my own conscience. I feel beastly tonight, i feel like ripping apart flesh and feeding off the gory insides till i throw up rivers of blood. This is not the world i live in and i have no idea how i stumbled into this, how i began to feel ache, how i let my guard down so easily, how i got horribly screwed over because of it. I knew what i was doing here at one point, but it's somewhat hazy now, like a blurry memory from a long-forgotten dream. I'm not one for running from things, but in this case the choice is obvious. If i stay, i'll lose my mind in the process and there is no call for that. There's this part of me that's starting to surface, slowly, ever so slowly...it's the ice, the level-headedness, the sheer logic, the one that take matters into her own hands and makes decisions. The moon is rotting more and more by the second; soon half of it will be putrid and the other just sweet juiciness. Funny how sweetness is so close to revultion, how dream turns into nightmare and how the road to hell is always paved with good intentions. I look into the abiss and i see betrayal, jealousy, selfishness, i see the worst in him with every breathing second.
I will be my own undoing, or at least part of me, the stupid, gullible part. I stopped seing myself in the equation at one moment, i forgot i existed, i stopped being my own greatest passion. Such a dreadful mistake. i have nothing but contempt for myself, i deserve nothing better from myself, i should vacate my own body until otherwise instructed. The prospect of becoming an emotionless, lifeless, beautiful carcass doesn't seem to be such an awful prospect. Oblivion yet again, ignorance and absolute bliss. It worked fine every other time, so why should it fail me now. The mold and the rot is slowly drifting, subsided by stacks of ice and deep marshes. The tears have faded into a sly, elegant, yet ominous smile. The peach is fully rotten, but no longer a peach, it morphed into a glistening black poisonous fruit.