hello, demons, i have missed u

Shouldn’t I fear my demons’ presence whenever I sense them in my room?

“Hello, old friend,”

I say

as I waltz towards the doom.

Those words…

how they flow so effortlessly out of my mouth,

so smooth,

like I just knew,

like I have no doubt

that their bodies will move

every which way

that I move

in perfect unison

and we will dance

and we will laugh

as if death may come peacefully after that.

There is the comfort and there is the ease

that I notice the most

in my tone

because I know

that I want to please them.

I know

that I want my demons to stay.

No consideration for how rough they play,

no looking out for my safety

even though I know

exactly

what they’re going to do to me.

They will probably destroy me

once we are alone.

But I get off

on the torture.

I find myself in the pain.

I lose myself

in all their little games.

And I give it my all

for their own

personal enjoyment

and selfish gain.

But maybe, I enjoy it too.

They need me

and I think that

I need them too.

I seem to like my demons

a little too much,

it’s true.

I can’t seem to get enough.

I crave their evil touch

and

I want their needy love.

My demons

they fill me up

because they know

I am empty without them.

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