It came to me like snails come to gardens: ready to consume,

It started slowly at first, just a flicker of doom,

The life within this skin a poorly made costume,

Sucked in a cycle like being stuck in a vacuum,

Broken down and beaten by the back of a broom,

The walls get smaller and smaller inside of my room,

Small they start, taking over my heart,

Like paper cuts they leave billions of tiny scars,

Infecting the wounds in the rooms that they carve,

Bleeding so fast it’s still blue as it departs,

Leaving me emptier than a house of cards,

Just one tiny wind could blow it all apart,

One by one they all send me their regards,

It’s their house now as they start controlling my thoughts,

Like a fly in a spider web I’m caught

Out of the darkness, replacing my thoughts,

Filled with fraught, as I lay in rot!

I start to understand there’s more than one way to devour,

A brief encounter, a surge of willpower,

Minutes counting down hour by hour,

Insecure in this tower, with a tiny glimmer of power,

Pieces glued together to unveil the picture,

Of this cold winter with a voiceless bitter whisper,

Internal murmurs make us sufferers and worshippers,

Where thinkers and quitters, shiver, decay and wither,

Till we open up and invite them to dinner,

It’s hard for a beginner, to look in the mirror,

To face oneself and pull the trigger

They feed on my soul , leaving a hole,

Sinking deeper in this hell, I hang on to this rope,

That strangled my hope, as I grasp and I grope,

In the dark of the night I lay awake in fright,

Idk why, they continue to try, to break me and make me cry,

Yet I still keep climbing, refusing to stop fighting,

Writing, citing morphing through my rhyming,

Striking lines like lightening in these words I’m typing!

These thoughts and emotions evolving into poems,

Fires to friends exploding into weapons.

That try and hide our lessons, leaving questions that threaten,

To devour me from the inside out like a parasite in my intestines.

Cell by cell they cause an explosion,

Pulling me down to bottom of the ocean.

Lifeless and mindless left with no emotions,

Just a soul left to wander the darkness all alone.

For eternity in this shallow room,

Destined for doomed, a flower that can’t bloom.

A man on the edge gone too soon,

It came to me like snails come to gardens: ready to consume!

—ŤerryŞalmon—