Demons of youth have resurfaced
forgotten, locked away long before
when happiness overtook a soul
with
each passing mirror
they laughed their way back with depression and grew
For just moments
an addiction to piercing needles on a
brain,
heat
rushing to the cheeks — a gentle ache to the gut — and
emptiness is
filled it isn't happy,
but its something compliments
received replace
some hurt and make voices stop drugs would be easier
but what would be
gained?
