Poetry

Demons.

My demons smile at me because they are the only friends I have ever known.
For in this world we are alone.
Demons singing to other demons.
There insides rotten because there souls couldn't withhold the evil.
Even my demons frighten me for they like to watch me scream.
A burial ground encompasses my body and I call it my breathe of life.
For I am choking on it.
Maybe it's just the playground for the dead and I'm hanging from the handlebars.
And when I go my demons shall clap.