Scream loud as possible into a freshly washed pillow still soaked with dreams of snakes and her face and friends who don't give a ****.
Raging against self-inflicted wounds wrought by the subconscious.
Two weeks later and infested again.
Muffled yells at half-volume to deal with it.
Manifested from fears like that kid from my nightmare last year with the macaroni in his hair.
I'm still haunted by it.
Feel that wrench in the stomach like an egg-beater twisting my guts.
Scream as loud as I can into a pillow twice-washed.

Punch the walls, feed the host, burn the demons, starve the ghost.
Scream without a filter and break all the windows.

Sleeping again but it never ends; never stops, never quits or gives in.
Always creeping below the surface.
What did I do to deserve this?
Screaming into a pillow thrice-washed.
Laugh at the clock and make friends with the dark.

Burn the walls, starve the host, please the demons, feed the ghost.
Bleeding from a punch to the window.
Self-inflicted ruin to appease the subconscious.
Scream as loud as you can into a wet pillow.