Hi readers, this poem has nothing to do with myself. It is a fiction trying to relate what it must feel like to have a guilt with someone or something. Hope you enjoy.

My Demon Was Hungry

My demon was hungry 
When it devoured all I’d built.
It happily used a solid, rusted blade
To clot my blistered guilt.

Guilt for what I didn’t say,
For things I didn’t do.
It left deranged, irrational scars,
Reminding me of you.

This demon left me black,
An empty nothing full of pain,
Pain which exists when I wake
And relive it all again.

And all I own are echoed aches
After my demon fed.
Now, “Defeat” is all I can hear, 
Each time I'm in my head.

depressionhurtquatrain

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