Seemingly small
Nothing but a little thing on my shoulder
Feed me, it calls
As the wind grows colder
At first I continue traveling
But the calls transform to screams
And my mind begins unraveling
Bursting at the seams
Begging turns to desperation
That little thing is now a creature
Of my design, my creation.
A grotesque form of which I am the keeper.
And then, there’s a loud roar,
Followed by an absence of sound.
The creature is no more.
With relief, I peeked around
But then came another,
And it devoured the first.
The creature had become a monster,
And for my blood, it did thirst.
I run, I hide, and dive for cover,
With no exit I can see.
Because how can you escape a monster?
When the monster is thee.