As I lie back and close my eyes to another night,
I feel the demon in the closet readying to spite.
As my blood runs cold in the veins and the heart beats wild,
I prepare myself for a run-in: elusive, yet profiled.
I notice that I’ve grown much weaker,
As my body has amassed the poison of the infester.
It’s harder every night to stand up to a fight,
With someone who’s known my every single sleight.
I stand up nevertheless after hours of suffering,
Even as the toxin burns my very soul ceding.
I walk up to the closet and yank the door open,
Ready to stare at the demon inhuman.
But as I try to clasp the demon by her throat,
She smiles at me: digging out the memories remote.
I loosen my grip failing once again,
And into my body goes more venom and pain.
Colors of mind 