A Letter to ther Demons
Some nights are filled with such inspiration that all hope is lost. The days seems longer and your okay weeks transforms into one filled with the stench of depression. The sicknesses that can be held back most days terrorizes your mind to the point of no end, and all you can barley whisper is "Make it go away." You want so bad to add a "mommy" to the end of that plead but you know you can't because mommy left ages ago. In fact, maybe she was never there. The blankets that you've pulled over your head will hide and cover those beasts for a few minutes, but you can hear their chanting and their blood thirsty demands. Then you realize they're closer than behind your blankets, their in your head. Screaming and crying you run away wishing you had enough strength to wish for hope, but your last piece of hope was carried away in mommy's suit case long ago. The only chance you have to survive the night is in the window that you're charging towards. You leap and the window breaks. You've escaped your demons. Then you hit the ground.