I sat down to write a letter,
a distraction from this stormy weather,
planning to send it to a friend in hell,
until I realized I was writing it to myself.
So I scribbled on the mirror…
To: my demons
Hello, my friends,
it’s so nice to see you all again.
From time to time,
I’ve had to remind
myself
that I was somebody
else.
This plastic persona
pretending to own a
hint of self respect
has been hard to maintain
with a mind so insane,
so it’s pleasant to reconnect.
Have you all been well?
To be quite honest,
I was hoping you’d all rot in hell.
But now that you’re here
How about a cup of tea?
We can chat about ways
to destroy all of my dreams.
Why don’t you pick a movie?
You can cut off my eyelids then press play.
Lock the doors and strap me to the chair,
all for old times’ sake.
I wasn’t expecting guests,
and haven’t prepared anything to eat.
So how about we carve out my heart,
grab a fork, and take a seat?
I’ve been sober now for two whole years
so I’m afraid I don’t have wine.
Instead you can drain my veins
and sip my blood as we dine.