He lives through me.
He speaks to me.
He is a part of me.

He is on a different plane, whispering thoughts into my head.

They don't need me.
I don't belong here.
I am wrong, and
I long to be corrected.

He pushes these things onto me and I understand because it is Him.
His wishes and His desires must be met on a whim.
When my light shines too bright, He persuades the world to dim.

For every breath I take, He is the exhale; strangling me passively.
His whispers are the knife pushed up against my life.
Every word, a concluding phrase;
I LOVE YOU,
I LOVE YOU,
good-bye.
Completely unsatisfied until I've heard Him and have died.

He holds my hand gently, and pulls me down hard.
Guides me towards that beautiful, shining light;
The 4:08 train.

The Devil knows my name, and with it feeds me shame.
As the light begins to leave my eyes, I know that I have lived through lies.
All the words and evil things He said, were steps in every move He's led.
As I danced with the Devil inside my head, I knew that all I've loved was dread.

I can't tell if I am dreaming,
or if I'm already dead.