no title

as you lay down in bed
the deamons run all through your head
telling you what they think is wrong and right
satisfied they know you live in fright
they tell you to do things you know are wrong
they've told you them all along
and you give in and let them infest you
secretly they love what they put you through
you cry and cry until you can no more
knowing they;re getting to you they crawl deeper into your core
they tell you again what they think they know
thinking they love you you put on their show
that show ruins you
yet you continue doing what they tell you to
greatful happy lives is what the deamons lead
just to make you cut yourself to see how much you bleed
they smile and cry out in laughter
as they say goodbye to your life
so long, ever after

Reviews

[steph]

I used to be a cutter when I was younger, Still have the scars, I also know what its like to hear the demons and take a bittersweet fearful pleasure from them... Life sucks, most of the time, and you have portrayed that beautifully.. just one typpo is wrong, no biggie but you mispelled demon... I really relate to this poem another favorite