It's looming over me,
with its gaping maw
full of sadistic
jagged teeth,
each one a stab to my
already itty- bitty
sense of security-
and did I mention they gleam?
Yes, I can see myself
and my flaws
and my doubts,
staring at me
from the mouth
of the beast,
my beast,
the beast that lives
within the black part
of my soul.

I stand right there,
on the precipice
threatening
to devour
me alive.
I balance on the eggshell teeth,
on my bleeding toes,
my poor throat
raw from sobbing.

But I don't back away,
though I could try
to struggle against
the evil magnetism,
dark and alluring,
calling to me from
the depths of my sorrow.

I don't fight it
because the beast
knows something
I don't presume to,
and heaven knows
I can't resist logic.