Close your eyes and be alone with your thoughts.

The ones you run from— all day long, as you occupy the monkey— will emerge from the dungeons where you’ve carefully locked them away.

They demand to be heard, to have there presence felt so deeply that it radiates through your core.

And where will you run to now?

Vices long empty, unable to fill the void that permeates the intangible film of a soul you refuse to accept,

No longer will it lay dormant and hide within a weakened vessel left in the dust of an afterthought;

As you chase the illusion dangling on a hook,

Blatantly casted,

In front of your all too eager eyes.