The Malevolent Mind

The Malevolent Mind

Chained to a table made of cold hard steel. Praying it’s not a fable were I’m someone’s next meal. Debating what these walls would say if they could just reveal. Slaying every label on my wrist to let it heal.

The room was dark as coal then light came through a whole. The reaper is here for my soul. No, it’s a nurse with a syringe rusted and dull. She stuck my arm and said lets go. I couldn’t help but yell no.

She pushed my deathbed on squeaky wheels past a tallied wall titled number of kills. The hallways were narrow. Windows bared and sealed. The screams in the air, I could almost feel. I wondered to myself, “is this real?”

Dr. fear walked through the door yelling Satan is evermore. The incision was made in the surgeons worst vision. A collision of pain in my bodies every division. Living or dying wasn’t my decision.

It was inside of me. The chains on my body holding part A to part B. I shook uncontrollably. The pain, the blood, the surgery. It’s a demonic possession as most people see, a creature inside, killing , murdering me.

I opened my eyes one more time and realized this world was mine. I fight it away to be someone else’s slime but its not afraid, it wants me to die. My mind is committing a crime, trying to find what makes my soul so sublime.

Joshua Rocha