My Demons

They’re still here.

I can sense them.

They all want in

and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I’m trapped here in my twisted little house,

feeling them stare me to a squelchy pile of pulp

with their millions of beady red eyes.

They know,

they just know my mind is going to fold beneath their pressure

and let them come tearing straight through that door.

And once they get inside,

there is no telling what kind of hell they will wreak.

I am trapped here in this corner,

surrounded by madness,

counting the seconds before they finally get at me,

and tear at me,

and I don’t want to know what else…

I know they’re all in my head,

but what difference does it make?

I can’t escape them.

Not any more than I can escape myself.