Shark Ethic
The bearer of burden returns with inability to cope with separation anxiety.
It remains to torture me until I breathe and don't scream.
It stays to chip away at me until I sleep and don't dream.
Roots from my feet sprung like barbed wire and serpent's tongue, rendering me still: a quadripilegic in an iron lung.
On my back with scavengers above.
The scent of carrion: rotting love.
Master your fear.
