“Me, Myself, My Enemy” – Poetry 

Poetry excerpt from Demonic Lulladies.

© S.B. “LullaDIEs”

I sit here, in the darkest of rooms,
Staring at a mirror, contemplating doom.

My eyes burn with unexplained hatred,
The rage within is rare and sacred.

My lips are sealed, my tongue is silent,
While the voice inside screams for violence.

The words it bellows catch in my throat,
This voice, this demon, is like a fur coat,

Created from the dead, it keeps me warm,
And just like that, a villain is born.

The girl, the demon, and the insanity,
Me, Myself, and My Enemy.

My eyes are a portal to hell itself,
The demons beyond attack my mental health.

I see the monster behind, trying to break free,
I close my eyes, unwilling to admit it’s always been me.

Suddenly my mind is bombarded,
Visions of blood, gore, and the tormented,

I want to scream, puke, and run away,
But the demon won’t let go; no, not today.

Not tomorrow either, nor the day after that,
They’ll haunt me till death, that is a fact.

I watch the mirror turn one into three,
Me, Myself, and My Enemy.

Without hesitation, I shatter the mirror,
But the demon just laughs, knowing my fear,

His booming roar takes over my mind,
Peace, it seems, is something I am denied.

I cry, and I scream, alone with only myself,
But he screams louder, releasing the nightmare valve.

The visions paralyze me, it’s too much carnage at once,
I’m sprawled on the floor, reliving hellish months.

This is my life, filled with self made agony,
Me, Myself, and My Enemy.

Hours later, he releases my mind,
And when I sit up, my own eyes I do find.

Scattered all around are a thousand shattered me’s,
Staring back, eager for blood covered glee.

I can’t let the demon win,
I must fight the sinister voice within,

He took over once, long before this,
Never again, I must remember to resist.

I still remember the blood as it fell to the floor,
I still get the craving to kill just once more.

No, No, NO!” I yell feverishly,
To Me, Myself, and My Enemy.

Some people say I’m sick, twisted, and delusional,
Others say I’m talented, gifted, and their hero.

None of these people know the real me,
They see only what I allow them to see.

Everyday I fight the demon inside, myself,
How I wish my life tale could go back on the shelf.

Like a dusty book, never to be read by anyone,
But the demon says we can’t end what’s just begun.

You’re divine, chosen by Evil to deliver darkness to all,
We can wait another day to make the sheep fall,

Just write another story of murder, and then you can sleep.
There’s always tomorrow to punish the weak.

The demon soothes, knowing to this I’d agree,
Me, Myself, and My Enemy.


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