My cell
Has no door
Unlike one you'd see
Where a madman slumps
In waiting of release
My walls shine
With the sticky softness of comfort
But beneath the paint
The cold, blank stone
Echoes the void
I have not the energy
To fill
Although this prison
Locks from inside
Still there is
A madman
Trapped within

Hello my Demons,
It's been a while,
Or so I believed.

                             Here's the truth:
                             You've been here all along,
                             Just a different guise.  

I really wish you'd leave;
I'm pretty tired of you,
And I'm tired of the me
That exists when you are
Around.
                            
                                I'm really hoping this
                                Is the final time I reference you,
                               Because I've got better places
                               To be than
                               In your clutches.

It is
2:41 A.M
( I think)
I am talking
to a ghost
and I cant
quite recall
how it felt
when your
velcro lips
unravelled
my
heart

Why
   the
      ****
     Is
   it
So
   Wrong
       To
Feel.

That wolf we saw
On the pavement
Used the stairs
To escape our gazes
Having adapted
Slowly and sadly
To a world
Designed and created
By the hand of man

The way it ran
Suggested an understanding
That what had forced it
Out of the forest,
Onto that black reminder
Of total human *******,
In search of food scraps
Wrapped in styrofoam
Was staring straight at it

Maybe that wolf resented
Its inability
To dominate the world
With suits and pavement
But maybe not.
I hope not.