I am terrified
Of the demons camped out in my mind
I did not welcome them
None of us do
But out of a ****** up gene pool and a thunderstorm of circumstance they emerge
Ugly horrible creatures
Now you're saying I'm crazy
I sure as **** am
We're all ******* crazy
We're mad
We're Ginsberg's Roman candles shooting violently across the sky
That's not fair
(Though life hardly is)
Perhaps it's not just us
Perhaps it's these demons
Demons so keen on gardening and planting seeds in our heads
Seeds of emotion
Of self-doubt
of love
of laziness and disappointment
Seeds that sprout and consume
Winding and twisting
allowing such little light
Of course we have the power
We have the shears
We can cut the vines
But do we have the strength?
Do I?