Today I am consumed.

The monster is ready to
feast–Everything
is coming to a head
and I’m running from it.

This road always looks new;
my brain doesn’t know how to navigate it
and it’s catching up to me,
it always does.

I can not run forever.
He will not let me.

Like I said,

I am consumed.

The monster will
always
have me in it’s grip.
I may escape but do not
be tricked
as I have been,
it is not real.

The monster is purposeful.

It likes to let me go so
that it can play games.
It’s favorite game plays
with freedom.

Or freedom plays with me.

But that is not the game
we are playing
this time.

Today is about being
consumed.
It’s running until you’re cornered
or your legs give out

or both.

I try to hide but
the thoughts and feelings
inside me
are loud.
The monster can hear
them.
The monster can always
hear them.

It’s like they call for him
sometimes–tired
of this fake game of
escape.

It’s like he’s almost
comforting.
Like he’s better than this
treacherous road to
freedom.

I am familiar with him.
And he is familiar with me
and that is why he finds me.

I’d like to say that it hurts
when he consumes me
but it doesn’t.

It’s gentle,
loving

almost.

It’s familiar;
something known.

I forget he’s even there
sometimes. But
next time he let’s me out
I will run again. Because
no matter how gentle,
no matter how loving,

he scares me.

And he has always scared me.

You would have to meet
him to understand
but his eyes are sunken
and his teeth are sharp.

He could **** me and I
know
he wants to.

He tries sometimes

but that’s when I escape
again.
Because I don’t want to
die.

He’s comforting and
I’ll always be found or
I’ll always come back but
I don’t want to die.

And so I’ll let him
consume me
but I can’t let him **** me.