What does it matter to you?
My screams mean nothing to you.
Clawing, scratching, scrambling
for something, anything to cling to.
****** fingers and blind eyes;
no one else can hear these cries.
My mind: shattered, broken, defeated,
smeared on the floor for all to see.
The only voice I hear in the dark -
my Demon with his painful remarks.
Words ring off the walls; he speaks
velvet Lies into my ears for weeks.
Humanely malicious;
he tears my mind asunder.
Lusciously venomous;
he drags my broken body under.
There is no cure, no escape;
he is my twisted fate.
When I am vulnerable, he crawls to my side.
There is no one to tell me otherwise.
So what does it matter to you?
My screams never meant anything to you.