i stabbed my demons with a double-edged sword
it punctured my skin as well
and with that blood, i wrote your name,
not in times new roman,
but in my own special font
i cried over the torn parts of my flesh
but we all grow out of our tears,
don’t we?
after i stabbed my demons with a double-edged sword,
they climbed up into my brain cavities
and they took more
than i ever self sabotaged out of me
i carried my fallen blood in the suitcase
i will bury myself alive in one day
my demons spill secrets instead of blood
from their dreary corpses
and i rapidly try to gather them
in my dismay
if you write them away, they just come back stronger
because words aren’t indelible,
they can be erased
if you try to make peace with them,
they take too much of you
and label it a treaty
when it is honestly just tyranny
call it by no other name
if you start a war,
they start a revolution
and soon they have the entire universe up against you,
and no matter what anyone says,
you can’t beat the universe
you aren’t the avengers
you can’t do any of these things
and expect them to dissipate
and dissolve into the snowfall
you have to take yourself out
with the weapon you chose to ****** them in cold blood with
you have to bestow a double-edged sword
and you have to willingly sacrifice your entire self and more
cause unlike seasons, demons never leave
unless you **** their host
here goes nothing
the best writing is born from ideas that weren’t planned
8/23/22