Haunted

Breathe.

Pretend you can't hear the voices

Both with bodies and without

Laughing

Mocking

Watching

Waiting for you to fuck up

To spill your tainted blood

All over the pure white tile

Crimson staining the floor

The walls

Their looming faces.

They'l lap it up off the reflective surface

Like kittens

Smiling with red teeth

Craving more than you have

More than you ever wanted to have

At all.

It feels great doesn't it?

Letting people inside

Just for a tiny peek

So they can't see

How rotten and warped your insides have become

Blackened with the constant beating it's recieved

From those fucking voices

Those demons

It's only great after the first exhale

After you've given them a taste

Until you suddenly feel weaker

As if something you had meant to bury

Six feet under the ground

With yourself beside it

Had escaped without you.