My Own Personal Predator

predator-large

He was on me right from the start. I never had a chance to shake him off. I never saw him coming. I never saw him coming I never had a chance my own personal predator my own mind. I never saw him coming. He gets me every time – he’s right there on top of me before I even get a chance to blink. He’s on me the moment I open my eyes in the morning – he’s on me in a flash. He’s on my case. On my case. On my case. On my case. Always on my case…

 

He never takes a holiday! Never takes a break. He’s always one step ahead. No matter what I do he’s there before I am. No matter what I do he’s ahead of me, waiting for me, knowing my next step better than I do. He’s there waiting with his list. He’s got a list of things for me to think that’s a mile long! There’s no chance of getting out of it. No way. No way. No way. Never any way. You’ve just got to think about those stupid old things. Think about those things. You have to tick them off the list. You’ve got to think about those things. Those damn stupid things.

 

He’s there waiting for me with his list every morning. Before I get a chance to open my eyes. Before I even get a chance to draw a breath. “Think about the things! Think about the things! Think about the things!” urges my mind, my own personal predator. Only he doesn’t say it, he makes me do it. He’s always there. He’s never late. Never ever gives me a second to draw a breath. Never allows me time to gather my wits together. Doesn’t give me a chance. He’s wearing me down, slowly but surely. He’s got me against the wall. He has me backed into a corner…

 

I met him in a dream, sitting on his own at the other end of the café. Busy tucking into his sausages and mash. Greasy smile on his face. Greasy old face on his smile, enjoying every mouthful. Big old smile. Tucking away. Tucking away. Tucking away. Tucking into his plate of sausages, onions and mash. Plenty of gravy. Slurping away at his tea. Never looking up. Dribbling tea and gravy all over himself. Big smile on his greedy face. Big greasy smile. Feeding his face. Feeding his face. Feeding his face. Forever feeding his greedy old face. My own personal predator.

 

He’s eating his dinner the dirty old bastard. The dinner is me. The dinner is me. The dinner is me. You don’t believe me, huh? Take a good look at that plate. Go on. Don’t be afraid. Take a good old look. That’s it, go on… Don’t be shy. Who do you see on his plate now? Who do you think he’s got there?

 

 

 

 

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