themixedwitcharchive:

Red Thing

There is a monster in my chest. You have one too. 

It lives tucked in between the layers of flesh and sinew, makes its home in my empty spaces. When I run, it runs faster. I hear its footsteps echo in my hollow bones. 

It is a red thing, this beast, all hungry and searching. Its roots dig deep into my veins and pull them like strings.

Where it leads me, I can’t help but follow. It takes me to dangerous places, to dark caves, to the edges of cliffs. “Plunge in headfirst.” it tells me. And I do it. 

The creature in my chest has killed me many times. Just as many, it has put me back together with delirious hands. When I am sinking into myself, it reaches in to pull me out. “Not yet,” it says, beating me back to life, “not just yet.“ 

It is a master without method or reason. Still, I couldn’t live without it.

There is a monster in my chest. I call it my heart.