She has angels
whispering devious
"I love you"s hidden under her skin. Their wings stretched behind her eyelids,
each word they utter breathless whispers of darkness.
Come to me.
They don't love you.
Passionate declarations concealed in the ridges of her mind.
Chemically induced reality,  
tangible sound.
Shut up.
No. Please. Come to me.
Be with me.
I'm waiting.
Waiting, making bottles
Of pills opportunities
Each medication possibility
Please don't listen to your angel
He's no angel at all