Constantly caught in the sweat of sleepless nights. Two thousand voices screaming: a diplomatic cacophony; a choir without harmony. Run away; we create our own monsters and there’s no escaping. Left to doubt the very flesh on my bones. Fed from the mouth of deceit.
Drown it out with the air in my lungs. Repeat.
Slice the lids from my eyes, I can’t hide from this anymore. Shackled and weighted, my children cry,
“we are the blood under the fingernails of those who are weak, the wounds on the backs of those who are whipped.” I am disarray, the embodiment of suffering. Their tombs surround me. March into forever.
One by one, all my past demons crawl back into the room. They surround me, just out of focus, but I feel the stare of their feral eyes and the warmth of their breath on my neck. The pulse beneath my skin. I beg, not like this... not like this. They grin and devour me.
I loved you, but I can’t believe in anything anymore.