Circular

I bit my cheek and it tasted like disdain,
As if to be careless is to deign
And to know every stare carries a heavy weight. 
I saw eyes even with my gaze affixed to the earth
As phantoms rose from it,
Their brutal claws leaving gruesome wounds,
And I am reduced,
Just a stump of a man
Who can only be judged.
My conjurings feed off my malaise,
Their shroud becoming fuller by the second,
Until I am consumed by it;
Forced into a bitter pit. 
How does one free themselves from self-treachery?
If I close my eyes,
It’s all I see.
I fear the monster in the mirror most;
His stare weighs the heaviest. 

In the end,
Only I can save myself. 
I must accept the hand I have extended.

-k.r.r.