The Beast
I found the monster in the mirror, fleshed stitched with the fear of guilt, a puppet bound by veins. With whispers of rot beneath each breath.
I fed it well, fed it lies, fed it fear, greased its tongue with my own deceit. Till the shadows spoke in cadence with my voice and I knew there was nothing left to redeem.
I chewed on my own skin, hoping to purge the beast gnawing from within, each tear a prayer to silence the beast, but all that I tasted was the stench of my own decay. The bitter rot that was me. The truth suffocated me, and in that suffocation i became the beast.
Copyright © Kolya Koslov | Year Posted 2024
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