The Quilt

Creeping, hiding just out of sight.

Fingers reaching like tentacles to tickle my mind.

Grasping, grasping.

Overtaking me like a black fog descending.

A mere shadow.

Strong

Moving slowly.

Steadily. 

Unyielding.

I refuse to succumb to the dark power.

Bindings encircle my heart, making it constrict.  

Engulfing my brain with thoughts that you control.

I am your prisoner.

Bound by your ligatures.

You burrow into my depths, dominating my whole, but I am not ready to surrender fully.

The pressure you inflict shatters my psyche into tiny pieces that fall to the floor, but I gather them together again.

I work hard to reattach the bits.

A quilt of my former self.

I fold the edges together into a palatable portion that can be tucked away until next time.