I've neversmiled so hardin my life,until the dayI foundmyself again.I'mat peace.ThepeaceIneverknewIalreadyhad.It tooka lot of strength.StrengthI underestimatedhaving.

It's easier now.There's a sense of relief.And while I still suffer from my demons,I am not overcome by them.I am not chained by them.I just know how to deal with them.And that is the greatest satisfaction.

What if I can't get out?I want to.I'm just so tiredof being picked apartand scattered likeashes.I see nowthat mydemonsarescavengers.But the darknessis an oldfriend I can't say no to.

I've often taken my hands and turned them into fists.Punching myself in the head.Trying to make sense of myself.I'm left with anger.A wet faceand a migraine.

Across the face, mouth, etc...A cold, familiar dose of reality.I hate being a kid.Everything I do is wrong.I hate myself.I hate this life.I hate everything.

The hate inside you reeksand you're forced to vomit black blood.It's unnatural.Your brain is full of tumors,unknown to you.Or maybe, you knowand just don't care.

They danced underneaththe lampposts at night,when they were bored.And when the sun rose,they tormented wanderingsouls.

Fetch him breakfast.Fetch him coffee.Fetch his sheets for his bed.Fetch him lunch.Fetch his drink.Fetch the ax to cut his head.Fetch him dinner.Fetch him tea.Fetch the mop but watch him bleed.

We're both drowningin our rotten shells.I look to you for comfort,but your hand is already pushing my head down.