Late at night, I can feel the words clawing their way up my throat but they can never seem to find there way out of my mouth. Instead their ghosts haunt my every thought. I paint the empty sheets of paper with ink until they are drowning. Only when all my pens have dried and papers crumpled do I realize what I have done. I wrote my mind in the stars but now they only tell of demons that haunt me. It won't be long before they are upon us.
-Forever, Raine