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Jan 2015
Every day, my demons let me know I am still alive.
Not to motivate, but to taunt; snickering as I walk by the bathroom, I get so frustrated I scream and call for family. I am always told. "Don't make me get my *** up to see a empty room!."
Does she not understand, the demon, red as can be are standing right there.

I continue my day, get home from school, the demons decide to not follow me until I realize they were waiting. Bursting into my room they throw me on the bed, and hand me a razor, and make me go at it, I can't stop them, they make me smoke, I can't stop them.
But... I don't know if I want too, it gets to the point where it feels natural, all the pain I feel, makes me feel good.
I get so close to slipping, but then something only the insane would believe.
I am saved, by an angel of light, she herself; hurts on the inside, but she shows me the true light of life with a smile.
And I can't thank her enough.
Because the light feels.
This is a poem for my best friend, almost a sister to me.
She is a lovely girl, and a awesome friend, thank you Selena.
Quentin House
Written by
Quentin House  Willard, MO.
(Willard, MO.)   
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