But still It stays, following her.

Get away from me!
She pleads.

I am you, It taunts.
It grows with her pain.
The struggle feeds it,
Invigorates Its bestial mind.

Or lies built upon that truth?
She'll never know like this.

Searching within,
It senses resistance and latches on,
Cold embrace.

If she sees truth,
It can be killed, released.
With work.

But does she have it in her?
It cripples her will,
Beyond what she can ever say.

She lies in her room,
Curled up,
(Meaningless) words spouting forth.

If only she were just a little