Thrown to Himself for Breakfast

Unwillingly thrown to himself for breakfast, he starts to chew his own flesh.
Not entirely aware of how he arrived in this predicament and utterly clueless as to how to escape it, he is at a loss.

He stops short of breaking through the skin, desperately seeking a way out of this. The hunger keeps his teeth in place, ready to clamp down, but the pain holds him back.

He looks out the window and contemplates the beauty of a body being hurled out the window to fall uninterrupted from the top of a gorgeous skyline. No, no, that won’t do.

He searches around for an exit but every exit leads to same place, an empty room with nothing to feed on except for himself.

He searches inside for a way through. This is surely a dream, as all things are. If he could only wake up. But when he wakes up he finds nothing has changed.

His thoughts begin to race as realizes he has failed to come up with a solution. They race for a for minutes as he works himself up into a sweat.

A single point in time marks a change in him, a change where the thoughts begin to calm. He has surrendered. The hunger is just hunger and the pain is just pain.

His teeth begin to grind through flesh that no longer feels like his own. As the blood begins to leave his body, he realizes that the hunger, like the pain does not belong to him.

He watches the blood form a pool on the floor. It’s so beautiful he forgets to chew.

aaarg

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