The Demon On My Shoulder

The demon on my shoulder, is whispering in my ear, and telling me stories, I never wanted to hear. It tells me, of blood and death, of theft and murder, or rape and meth. The demon then whispers, "Miranda, don't you see? You can run away, from me..." The words slither over cracked lips: "You can run but you can't hide, Miranda... Because i'll always sit here and bide, As the demon on your shoulder, but also as something else... because I am... yourself."