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Vicky Jean Kelly Dec 2015
You can't see them, but you hear them.
You can't speak to them, but they scream at you.
They make you do things, but you can't move.
They make you think things, but you can't see it.
There all around you, every day.
What are they?
Where do they come from?
Why'd they choose you?
Demons are the death of us.
Vicky Jean Kelly Dec 2015
I'm a princess, cut from a marble smoother than a storm and the scars that mark my body there silver and gold.
my blood is a flow of precious stones, it keeps my veins hot.
The fire is found at home, I move through town I'm quiet like a fire and my noose of rope I tie and untie.
People talk to me but nothing ever hits home, people talk to me and all the voices just burn holes, I'm going insane.
This is the start of how it all ends, they used to shout my name now its a whisper.
I'm speeding up and this is the red orange yellow beat sparking up my heart......
it's killing me.
Vicky Jean Kelly Dec 2015
The never ending hate
The never ending pain
The never ending blame
With never any gain
What's the big idea
Shadowed in our minds
The world isn't perfect
And life takes its time
But some what to end it
Quicker then it seems
You only see the smile
You never see their dreams....

— The End —