I Imagine Demons

Part I: im sorry that i cant care about you. valiums taste like smarties. i chew up one, then three. cry for help. im sorry i dont give a **** anymore. i have to snort a k-pin to sort myself out. and now im chewing mint leaves in my sinuses. ive got no candles to burn in your absence. ive got nothing to give or show. i stole your twenty dollar bill. i didnt even need it. i just need someone to love me. head is hurting. when i stand up, i fall against walls and corners. ive got bruises i cant explain. i break toes and i dont remember. and i sit here licking tabletops, just waiting for someone to care. and the demons talk. Part II: it crawls up out of my dream and suckles onto my neck. i carry it with me as i work, as i shop, as i laugh and cry and talk. its laudnum in absentia. i need it now. now. now. i want the cherry-blossom arms you own. i want to get this monkey off my back. it slithers up from daydreams when i imagine some life far away. ive got a sunny kitchen again, ive got a houseful of people again, and food on the table. and a shift from the corner and the food on the table is rotting and the people are falling apart skeletons and the kitchen is a coffin. Part III: im afraid of sleep now. ive got too much to do. decisions to be made. skin scarred, skin freshly cut. face dry, face full of tears. pictures in an album. pictures burning in a sink. pillows remind me of a lovers chest (no more never again) a mothers breast (no more never again) a babys bed (no more never again) Part IV: it slithers up with scaly skin and rubber fingers and it stretches the walls, of the skin of the room of my mind. demon speaks my name and i go home . demon speaks my name and i bend to offer flesh.