Demons

Sunken eye sockets stare blankly back at mine.

Jaundiced, rotting skin close enough to touch.

Cracked lips form a lopsided smile, blackened teeth peeking through the gaps.

Razor-sharp claws clawing the mirror, desperately trying to break the barrier between us.

 

Ear-splitting shrieks erupt from bleeding lips, the creature roaring in frustration as the mirror holds firm.

The beast is defeated for another day.

Chains forged in fire and bound in blood hold firm.

How long can I keep my demons locked inside?

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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