I am in a dark, muddy gutter of guilt and self-hatred, digging myself deeper with what's left of my torn and fleshy fingernails. I have no shovel, no rope and my cries are gurgled by the acid rains that keep filling my cradle.
There are heavy chains of wide, gaping links that bind me to the grave I am trying to dig out of. Deep down, I have a Demon, oh yes. He thrives off my hair follicles every time they free the shadows in which he lingers.
There are heavy chains of wide, gaping links that bind me to the grave I am trying to dig out of. Deep down, I have a Demon, oh yes. He thrives off my hair follicles every time they free the shadows in which he lingers.
His skin is fleshy and shredded, yet he licks his fingers and smiles with a bloody mouth. Droplets of red from the edges of his stained smile. Whispering temptations into my hands in a language I do not speak.
He sends his seething parasites under my scalp where they scratch from the inside with a dull nail, calling for me to free them.
I had met him once you know. My Demon.
I had met him once you know. My Demon.
He appeared from my stomach and came out my mouth. My eyes were swollen and wet. I had dry heaves from trying to get him out of my system, but when we finally did meet, I realized that I was lonelier without his company.
So back I let him into his beautifully furnished penthouse suite. Best view in the house.
That was a few years ago, and he is long overdue for an eviction.
So back I let him into his beautifully furnished penthouse suite. Best view in the house.
That was a few years ago, and he is long overdue for an eviction.
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