I hear voices -
that is to say a voice
that is not by own,
but a strangers

(no longer a stranger, now,
a friend, an enemy, a curse)

he licks my brain
with his wet tongue
whispering morbid
fantasies of death
and destruction

he is a wolf
to which I am
his meat - he plays
with me - toys with
me

drags me across
the floor, my blood
trailing behind,

I wake up to his
howls, peaking through
my window at the moon,

(I know moonlight well, these days)

I don't sleep that much,
his voice eating away
at my flesh, my bones
left brittles and shaking
in their shell,

I do as he commands,
eat the red fruit, don't step
on the cracks. Don't trust them!
THEY ARE SPIES!!!

he takes me whole into
his mouth, twisting me
around his tongue like
half forgotten words,

savouring his demands
for blood, that I have obliged
with the flick of a knife,

then, at last, devours me