My Snakes

I have my pets
My little snakes
That lie in wait.
That slither.
That eat.

They live in depths
Of my broken heart
Waiting for depression.
For weakness.
For break.

Coiling within my gut
They strike most
Unexpected.
Unwanted.
Most likely.

And I’m forced to hide
behind my mask.
Forced to conceal my
torture.
What’s a true friend
worth anyways?

Well my little snakes,
lets find out if blood
will do…