tired of the yelling,
they never seem to stop,
those voices keep on screaming,
shaking, black-eyed demons,
a grip on my lungs,
twisting up my brain,
laughing, jeering,
joking, sneering,
it never, ever falters,
the words keep on coming,
following my every move,
they never leave my sight,
and I’m imprisoned in their hold,

you’d think it’d be easy,
walk away from what’s not there,
because you can’t see it,
most others can’t,
but I see the grotesque monsters,
they’re attached to my mind,
the only “friends” I’ve ever known,
the ones who cloud perspective,
making judgements hazy,
and yeah, I guess I’m crazy,
but they drove me to be this way,
so if anyone’s to blame,
start with what comes from inside.

By: Andrea Colantonio

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