2 Girls 1 cup

What is this voice?
This voice hemorrhaging onto my brain, yet not passing through my ears?
or could it be of my imagination?
A subconscious defensive strategy conducted by my own fear
to drown out the deafening silence, that like the voice, is maddening,
yet soothing in comparison to the suffocating sound of nothing?
Then, like a whirlwind it hits.
An illusive memory of the day passed.
I remember it so vividly it burns my eyes deep down to my soul.
My mind is again frozen in fear as I replay the events that induced my current state.
It was two women with the darkest of dark intent, a simple object of everyday use, a cup.
But I could see that this cup was not a cup of everyday use, but a cup of pure pestilence.
A diseased ridden cup enslaved by the two who held it.
Then,
without warning, the two proceeded to desecrate this cup with waste of human matter.
At this point I was enthralled, yet confused by what may come.
Then... then the two went on to do unspeakable things,
things that the known woman of Babylon would cringe to see.
At this point I could not tell reality from real life.
I spun and I spun into this dark decrepit place I now live,
deep in my mind where actions of this nature do not exist.
Yet somehow its essence has followed me.
It's made its way to the deepest catacombs of my subconscious!
Again I awake, I call upon my closest friend and continue to pass this curse to him,
so that I may not alone suffer this sick, unbearable indulgence.