Maniacal Dream

Withered tiny parasite,
bosomed in my grasp,
hold tightly your strangled finger,
phantom grip grown from wasted radiate,
I glance upon you shortly,
confused and distracted,
return you to my pocket,
stretched out and wrinkled,
scared and vulnerable,
you are born unto my acceptance,
and stare back at me,
now fully grown,
a disturbing and unalarming growth,
stocky and stout,
hairy and large nose,
inhuman proportions,
still,
familiar,
glancing from the shadows,
watching with expressionless vigor,
staring directly at me,
undistracted to your youth,
as am I,
yet continue forth,
the fires are burning,
the alarms are ringing,
the imprints await,
you are birthed,
I must be indifferent.