I'm tired of fighting my fears.
They fly to me on gilded wings.
I wait for them.

Greet them as they come.

A symphony of horror.
No point in trying to run
they like the chase.

So I just breathe in the terror,
feel it saturate
every part.

But there's no blood when they scratch me
because I have no heart.

So they claw at my skin
and tear at my flesh
and shred my spirit
and wound the depths
of my soul.

Eternal pain.

And I feel my mind bleeding
from the insanity.

Yet the gravity
of my grief,
no one knows.

And then they fly.

And when they fly, they fly suddenly,
leaving me. Alone.

Just a little more scarred than yesterday.

The only proof that they come.