Dual Reality

khood 032

What if the monsters and the demons I keep choosing,
are the ones inside to which I’m always losing?
Physical manifestations of the ones I try to hide?
Easier to battle when they are outside?
The love that I accept, what I’ve acknowledged I deserve?
If this is my reality, do you write it off absurd?
Searching for those already ghosts,
to echo back my beliefs, shells, just hosts.
Feeding an ever growing demon that I’ve kept inside,
these outward demons a diversion, so the real creature hides.
Call Poe, warn him that the heart has left the floorboards.
It’s taken root, found a shell, of this I am sure.
I can hear the beating of something that wants out.
It will claw, bite, rip of this I have no doubts.
It’s familiar, a sadness that I have claimed my own.
This is madness, giving birth, becoming fully grown.
To stop it, would quench a thirst that eventually will be filled.
A quick pause in a desire that cannot ultimately be killed.
You destroy things because in this you see that there is meaning.
A small shudder on the inside rising for the gleaning.
Black hole, carnivorous, coming for a feeding.
Sleepless nights, fist tight, ready for the beating.
The constellations we once traced on freckles on our backs,
now vulnerable, turning into cracks.
Raise the trumpets, white flags, surrender will come soon.
But, only, if you suppose this could all be true.

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