The it in me

It's in there. Maybe it's a "he." I don't know.

It's dark, it's hot, it's angry. It's fuzzy at its edges, ill-defined as to where it ends and other than it begins, but move toward its center and it's solid, defined, strong, and it's getting stronger.

I can feel it sink its claws in me, anxious to gain the strength to claw right through my flesh and taste its own air. It is imprisoned in me. It is taking my will. It is taking my blood. It is no longer my blood, but its blood. It will have its way soon enough. It will shed me like dead skin and move on.

I don't know what will happen then. I pray I am dead before it happens. Oh, God, hear my prayer. Let me be gone. Let me be gone now.