Victim

It lives beneath my skin.
That's where it's made its home.
Buried within my veins,
carved in flesh and bone.

At times it grows a little,
feeding off my blood.
At times it slumber deeply,
resting between nails and studs.

I try to make it happy,
I try to keep it still.
Cater to it's every whim,
lay victim to it's will.

Always hungry,
always ready to feed.
Always taking over me,
spreading its demon seed.

At times I find myself weak,
allowing it to surge.
Other times I fight it,
temporary courage.

No matter how I try,
it takes me bit by bit.
Enrapturing me with anguish,
I just can't take this shit.