The Demon Just For Me (A Poem)
I grew fantasies to feed myself when you left,
Nursing on hope and make believe,
Looking for cures in calloused hands.
But you’re not to blame.
The sickness made its way to me before we met,
Whispered curses to my heart.
Empty vessel, you’re in desperate need of filling, it says.
Search. Yearn. Feel hollow.
It’s deeper than you could ever reach.
The demon just for me.