Silence,
Pain,
An aching need to feel something.
An aching need to feel pain.
Everything she loves is dying,
Every tiny bit of her heart is breaking,
And no one sees it.
No one cares.
She sits alone,
Most of the time,
Surrounded by thoughts so loud,
So loud she can’t drown them out.
All she wants is things to be how they once were.
How they were before he lost interest.
Before he found something else,
Everything else,
That was more appealing.

Her cracking heart is loud enough,
Loud enough to attract her demons.
Back from their burrow,
Where at one time, they left her to her peace.
Silent sobs,
Silent screams,
Silent pain.
No one sees through her facade she puts up,
No one sees her mental scars.
No one sees that she’s dying inside.

Swallowed up by the dark,
Her demons were more than just a wolf.
They were angry, relentless.
Snapping and biting to try to tear her limb from limb.
Creeping into her mind,
They came with dusk,
Slow and torturous.
Often, images flicked in her mind like a candle in the dark.
Pictures of pills,
Piled into pounds,
On purple paper under the black light.
In the back of her mind,
The black light seemed to flicker,
The pills seemed to dwindle.
She knew it was a sick game,
Her demons trying to claim her mind.
No, they wanted more.
Her soul.
Her body.
Complete control over the capsule of the human she was.
Fighting these demons,
She searched for hope.
It came in the simplest form.
Perhaps this seems silly,
But it came in the form of a small dog,
Wild and crazy,
Yet sweet and loving.

Trips down memory lane.
He walks hand in hand with the shadows of his past.
The shadows turn to monsters,
Smiling wickedly with their long, sketched fingers stretching for his soul.
Tearing him down,
Ripping him from his world that was, a moment ago, so free of pain.
A flame in the darkness keeps him company.
Inhale.
Packs of nicotine to create static in his brain.
One thing to truly **** all of his pain,
A woman.
She murmurs nothing but love,
only craving a happy future for him.
His trips down Memory Lane slowly faded with the dawn of the coming day,
She was successful in her struggle against his demons.

Love can be one of two things:
It can be a sleeping dog or a wild cat.
It can be light and flourishing,
A dream filled with sunflower fields and butterflies.
It can be a thunderstorm of emotions,
with nothing except the minor thought of it’s next nap to ease the pain.
In the end, love still craves for loyalty and trust.
It craves for it the way that all animals crave their next meal.