Waking, I felt him on me like a suit <br />I couldn’t take off—my very body <br />no more mine, but his. <br />I struggled to remove his face from mine. <br />I <i>had</i> to strip away the mask, <br />and that smell, that stale, stale smell I felt inside— <br />to plunge a sword into all that was not me <br />and pierce till all the foreign stuff was gone, <br />and a clear fountain surged, the pristine Soul.<br /><br />Max Reif<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-struggle/
