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.
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