Just when you wake
they are there.
While you sleep
they are there.
When you're laying awake in the pure darkness
they are flinching at your movements
snickering at your cries
piercing at your pathetic plees,
dancing around your thoughts
stringing out your conscience,
silently killing you.
Running,
crawling,
ripping at your flesh;
it does not leave.
Inside to outside
you are constantly thinking
the guilt breaks you;
it picks at your teeth
it peels at your skin
it's scratching away every single
every little pitiful action you've commited.
It is sin.
