The ghosts whisper.

Whisper
Whisper
Whisper.

Haunted by a demon that no longer lives
Within me.
The Devil doesn't need to do anything,
When it's me who's holding the blade to my throat.

Screaming as the chatter screams louder
Louder
Louder.

But there's nothing.
No one.

I cry and scream
And cut open my throat
And let the blood fill my lungs
Blaming everyone and everything,
Blaming demons and ghosts,

When it was me holding the blade.

"No wonder they all left."

Love doesn't always arrive
In the form of a bestfriend.
Nor does it always have a fairy tale beginning.

Sometimes,
Love arrives in the messiest,
Dirtiest,
Muddiest times in our lives.

But how great is it
To be walking out of hell,
To be walking out of the mud,
With someone by your side.

I told myself years ago,
If to love meant to stay muddy and bruised then I will forget what it is like to ever be clean.

And alas, love has arrived
And love is here.

I wrote my heart away with the blood
From the gashes you made in my soul.

I strung together words and orchestrated metaphors
To bring life into the pain you brought into my life.

I created you to be better
Than what you actually were.

I strained—
I pressed on to get where I am today.

How foolish of me to think the sun shined from your ***
When it was really hell gasping for air.

When confusion comes,
And the rooster crows.
When darkness settles,
And coldness falls,
I will hold your hand,
Through it all.

**** the boy

Before he kills you