Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Dark clouds blow overhead,

the mind races as the heart beats fast,

perspiration breaks the skin,

slipping slowly down my face,

desperation creeps in,

 panic,

terror,

identity lost,

who am I?

Am I him?

Am I me?

Are we intertwined,

or am I a figment,

a character,

in his twisted world,

or maybe he’s my invention,

to sooth my broken mind,

whatever the case,

however this ends,

It’s still within my grasp,

I can still be,

I can be still be the last!