Amusing

Amusing to see all of the snakes slithering through the cracks in the door when shes closing it.

A plague of sorts;
the jealousy molting from their flesh rotting in the air.

Demons love to attempt possession when she's no longer open to hearing them.

Spirits love to orbit the moon when its shining;
threatening talks of morning and blinding.

How they play needles through a haystack;
though shes numb to their proding.

Beggars to plead,
from down on their knees
under her feet.
Antics without purpose,
words without meaning,
A line from the past
reaching and slipping.

"I'm sorry"
"I love you"
"I do miss you"
"I was to dumb to listen"

Echos from the ghosts
empty promises drowned out by the walls engraved in her mind.

They are full of grey lines
when believing is a feat.

Rationality never allows the same game twice.

Amusing to see the past choking on its own decision,

Falling in place of the bones of the heart that it broke.

The past is the past that refuses to remain behind.

Demons always come back to cry.