Vile shapeless figure
Creeping in
Always there, waiting for me to fall down
Its eyes were not natural, for they saw within me
they saw a weakness I did not know to exist
Of me they made the perfect host
its claws, sharp as needles
injected a poison perfectly designed to make me believe
believe I needed it to survive and to be
It does not speak any language
but it can whisper dark feelings
that erased my own thoughts
and made me pick up all the stones along the way
one by one
I carried them under my shoulders
weighing me down and making me cling to more stones of dark blames
Upon a vicious cycle, my will was under its control
It is exactly how it wants its host
controlled
weaking its own mind
self destructing the essence
blinded to the freeing truth…
As the host finally does by itself the parasite’s job…
Nida B. 🖤