I am pain.
I cannot survive in the light
so I scurry into the corners, into the depths of souls,
swimming in guts
where it’s blacker than the darkest night.
And there, I molt and grow, whether I want to or not.
See, that’s the thing about me:
I’m not trying to hurt anyone,
but that’s my lot.
A strange fate: expanding in the depths until the host can’t survive,
destined to break apart my container so that the light comes in
and destroys me.
Born into a paradox. Both catalyst and relic.
A sacrifice, unnoticed.
Necessary but unwanted.