I am Wounded, I am Weak, I am Prey.

Time doesn’t so much pass by as it crawls to its resolution, the wounds that have been healed have been ripped open at the seams, the ghost of you has appeared in the visions of my tomorrow,

a circle of salt surrounding the broken sheets I call home does little to stop the onslaught of idealistic terror you pump into my subconscious, keeping me from embracing the safety of the darkness around me,

I hear the monotonous ticking of the clocks developing into a soundtrack for the lonely, the words weighted on my breath harrowingly call you to cease your ill gained dominance of my mind,

this ghost of who you become has become more powerful then the person you ever were, my dreams and reality are a blur of consequence and regret,

I need to put you to rest by letting go of the part of you that I hoped still remained, holding on and burying the hope deep within myself resulted in nothing more then the manifestation of the person you really was,

I am the wounded,

I am the weak,

I am the prey,

these words I scream out over and over again,

i am the wounded,

i am the weak,

i am the prey,

the clocks rhythm syncs with mine as the words gain momentum, I feel a force driving me like never before,

I am the wounded,

I am the weak,

I am the prey,

The figure in front of me places a hand on my chest “let us both be free” …