sitting at my desk,
writing
not me but
the demons
residing within me
every word,
is mine,
but not about me
maybe you or that one girl, out of many
who knows
my pen bleeding like my heart
every letter word or thought
drenched with blood
no sweat

be careful
some friends and some siblings, some parents wear masks,
once seen without their disguise
you‘ll be betrayed
and sit at your desk
with that flask
once again

everybody needs someone,
someday,
someone important to them
to talk about their
somewhat unimportant problems

the good words get quiet
in front of the bad ones