A Paranoid Hate Poem

The walls piercing through their plaster, as if watching me, mocking me, there are four. I'm locked in a room and my demons are feeding on my mind. The bed shakes sometimes, and sometimes it refuses to move, it holds me close and screams that it'll never let me go. I'm locked in a room and my demons are feeding on my mind. My bookshelf sits there, waiting for me to run my fingers through it like I used to, but I don't have that childlike enthusiasm left in me like I had in November. I'm locked in a room with my demons who never let me sleep. I'm locked in this room with my demons, and they are feeding on my soul. I'm locked in this godforsaken room, seeking an out and these demons are sucking the life out of me. I'm locked in this room awaiting my sweet release.