The corner of my room with the mirror has always put me on edge,
I feel like I'm going to see something in the reflection that isn't me
and there are voices at night,
I can hear them whispering and
I think this house is haunted
because these demons couldn't have come from my head,
they say things I can't repeat out loud,
and these malicious beasts have been feeding
on guilt and blood and *****
and it seems like they are only getting hungrier.

They are trying to **** me.
I have watched them scheming,
scratching pen over paper,
throwing out any idea they can think of
because nothing is inhumane
to creatures that are so clearly inhuman.
I have tried to get rid of them,
hung crucifix in doorway
because faith is a kind of submission they do not know how to compete with
but they slide in between floorboards,
promise to stay quiet this time,
and although I don't believe them,
I do not bother arguing.
I know they will not yield to my flimsy cries of hope
and if I have to settle on sharing my home with strangers
or not having a home at all,
the choice seems clear.

I know that their plans still hold true,
they have already picked a date and a weapon,
but I am too tired to fight.
I have tried running away
but the moment I step out of bed my legs quiver and my knees fail
and my stale mind tells me it is not worth the effort.
I think they have started poisoning my food
because I am always fatigued
and coffee and pills cannot suppress
whatever it is they are doing to me.

When I stand in the corner of my room and look in the mirror
I see eyes that were once bright
now turned bloodshot and heavy,
hands shaking as they try to
rub the bruises out of my skin,
scars, everywhere.
I am starting to look like them.