A poem
Shadows stain the spaces behind my eyes,
swirling clouds of alien mist seeping in, widening.
A presence unraveling,
spreading like a fungus on overripe fruit.
It slides through fissures in my mind,
exploring crannies, coiling in crevices
like a slick parasite.
I feel it burrowing deeper,
tunneling through layers.
No barricade can keep this invader out
no walls firm enough to dam its viral flood.
It seeps through. It knows me.
It alchemizes my thoughts to alien forms.
I grasp at memories,
now shimmering mirages, just out of reach.
My sense of self, scattered,
a pile of building blocks smashed and strewn.
Only it remains, viral,
weaving through grey matter,
wrapping neural tendrils around nerve endings,
claiming dominion in this fertile new host
as I fade into its alien hive mind.
It is the puppet master now.
I, the marionette, dancing
on strings of its swirling shadows.
It wears my flesh,
speaks with my tongue,
as the last embers of my selfhood
are extinguished in its dark cosmic haze.
