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It started.

It started as a small
Stir, nothing worth
Paying attention to.

Then it built in momentum,
A mere stir became
A tornado like frenzy,
Pulling at the moorings.

The moorings of my being
Began to become undone,
Pulling apart and away
Until I viewed everything
From some lofty place
While I created havoc.

I tried to crawl back in,
To take control,
To soothe the beast,
It was a beast.

Horns a foot long each
Grew in a curve from
It's skull. Sharp spikes
Grew along it's spine
And when it unfurled it's wings
A terrible beast it became.

It howled into the air
Deafening me till
I curled up into myself,
My original position,
My instinctual position.

I caught myself almost
To late and I jumped up
And sung into her,
Taking her down.

A terrible beast,
She may be but
She is my beast and
She will be controlled.

With my strength,
I held her down,
With my words,
I calmed her down.

Slowly, reluctantly,
She calmed down,
She grew smaller and smaller
Until she was but
The size of my little finger.

Soon she will be nothing
But a breath and
Then nothing but a twisted memory.

Thank God,
This only happens
Once a month, but
The countdown has begun.
Twenty eight days until
The beast appears.
I will be ready.