His Own Little Demon
A dangerous place. So unsteady.
The sharpened claws,
Ripping him apart.
Tugging, pulling,
him into the deepest of despair.
The sharp exvruciationg sound of the snap of a bone.
The claws that are tearing apart his soul.
He was almost there, almost,
When "The Thing" grabbed him, again.
Dragging him deeper and deeper.
Sinking into the darkness of nothing,
gasping for air.
Every breath hurt his entire body.
He felt the sticky warmth.
The smell of salty metal.
His own wet blood.
He thought he might escape the "The Thing".
When it grabbed him again,
Tearing into his fragile skin.
Breaking it into shreads.
The snap of a collarbone.
The echo of his cries yet no responses.
No one but he could help him now
He was his own little demon