Sitting with my eyes closed,
my body rests in child's pose.
"Tense," he says,
and i do.
"Imagine, let the seed grow."
I look - how deep, can it go?
Beyond my brain,
beyond my throat,
deeper.

Down, in my core,
a seed, ready to break,
relentless it has been,
in its beating.
The most disgusting part of me,
it has hidden,
hidden deep,
any pain i ever was,
and hate I'd ever be.
"Let it grow," says he,
and I do.

"Let it stretch,
and sprout limbs,
root around your inner things."
Any hope,
any love,
it is vanquished.

I feel my eyes rise together,
to the middle of my forhead,
and the blackness envelopes my heart,
prepares for war.

"Now let the sound resonate
in your throat.
Let it simmer...into a growl,"
and a thunder, sans question,
escapes my chest.

My head turns up
and my arms rise, though not far,
as the stance of a cyclops represents me.

"Now attack," says he,
and I do,

wondering what has driven me to such maddness.