The bearer of burden returns with inability to cope with separation anxiety. It remains to torture me until I breathe and don't scream. It stays to chip away at me until I sleep and don't dream. Roots from my feet sprung like barbed wire and serpents's tongue, rendering me still - a quadripilegic in an iron lung. On my back with scavengers above. The scent of carrion - rotting love. Master your fear.
