Deep within the labyrinth of my bones
there lives a sordid being,
he gazes from my eyes
and whispers twisted lies
to taint the things I’m seeing.
To cut him from my flesh
is an impossibility,
like holding back a flood
or cleansing one’s own blood,
he’s my reality.
A dance within my lungs
to the beat of my own heart,
I feel his icy grip
it crackles like a whip;
stings like a poison dart.
If I granted him his wish
I would surely be undone,
but only I can see
how he slowly tortures me
in battles yet un-won.
Published on August 23, 2015 07:58