Black hole

It’s cold. The air seems frozen solid within my lungs and I cannot breathe. That cruel frost takes me piece by piece; she steals at my arms and claws at my legs as if she needs them for her own locomotion. I feel the claws of wind digging at my chest and my heart begins to thump and leap towards those hands. I have no choice but to defend my heart, thus my hands are sent to my chest as shields. However, it seems these hands of mine are tainted and the frost uses them as a medium. It is my own cruel hands that dig and tunnel through my chest and to my heart. They claw through the ribs and crawl through the muscle and swim through the blood. I take my heart and I grasp it. I grasp it so tight my heart cannot move. It cannot beat and it cannot pump the blood through my living corpse. The pressure builds about my heart and becomes stronger with the passing clock. The whole world seems to draw in towards me in a queer fashion; the color is pulled first, followed by the outline, then the content of an object itself. It is my heart that eats at these things. I see it now, the teeth and the mouth. My damned heart has become some vessel of gluttony that consumes all that is good. It is myself that is left with what color I had before. However, in contrast to the lightning bursts of beautiful and radiant reds and blues I see now that I had little color to begin with. The passion and good that I had started with is deemed unfit by my own heart. Everything around me seems drawn for darkness. The world no longer feels passion or pain or lust or happiness or depression. The world around me is nothing anymore than the carcass of what was once some great beast. It was consumed by greed and selfishness.
I have made myself into a black hole. I will unmake it all.