The monsters are circling.

There is nothing left in that place.
As hard as I try, I cannot.
The effort leaves me anxious and scared
So here I stay, in this desolate place. 
I must meditate on this change.
I must see it empty, feel it to be so.

Now I can see the vastness of the landscape.
Strange to think anything lived here, strange to think I tried to pretend.
Fear does strange things, it will do anything to keep us alive. 
So now that I know, I can no longer pretend. 
I see what I've done.
Now I see the monsters circling.
Now they see me staring back.
I am afraid, but not in the same way I was before.
Now my fear comes from clarity instead of self delusion.
Now my sight sees what waits. 
Now I see the anger and hunger in the monsters that circle my still figure.
Now they see me and my fear, and my ferocity.
I can see their fear too. 
And because of how I am pieced together, I am sad.
I am sad I can longer pretend.
I am sad I cannot let the monsters feed on my flesh, because I know they will suffer and starve.
But it must be done and so it begins. 
So they will come, and I will starve them and become stronger as they circle me in frustration.
Howling in hunger.
And I must keep my eyes open, and watch them and love them anyway.
As they fade and I become more solid and the land becomes lush.