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The Demon’s Eyes

im tired - Labyrinth and Zendaya

I thought I had it covered when I went to work —
happy thoughts, happy deeds, happy steps.

I thought I had it figured out —
when I tried to walk out the door.

“You’re so fucking weak.”

A ringing in my ear, but I tried to let it go,
put on my best clothes —
to be productive, to be helpful, maybe to be happy.

The demon was right there —
eyes wide, dark as endless pits, no iris in sight,
standing, staring, staring, staring.

I froze.

Then the demon was gone.

What was that? What demon? What eyes?

No one was there.

I had a place to be.

I quickened my pace, careful now —

But then the sky turned dark.

People around me froze and turned,
their eyes wide, pupils blown,
no iris — just emptiness.

I froze and felt my bladder betray me,
warm liquid flowing down my legs.

Oh God, please, please, please —

My best clothes ruined with urine.

The world laughed.

Suddenly I was on a stage,
wet, soaked, smelling of ammonia.

Dirty.
Disgusting.
Atrocious.

That was what I was.

I closed my eyes and walked blind —
just me and my thoughts.
Me and myself.

I walked and walked —
for a while.

I was fine.

I stumbled, fell, but got up and kept going.

My legs grew tired —
wobbly, jelly-like.

Finally I looked down —

Bare feet, dirty, maggot-infested,
tired but moving.

I tried to return home —
but my sister told me to wash my legs first,
they disgust her.

I searched everywhere, no water outside the house.

Walked and walked — no water,
no open doors.

No one looked at me.

No one was there.

I was alone.

No water.
No cleanse.
No home.

My urine-soaked clothes reeking of ammonia,
my hair unwashed, crawling with lice —
itching till I banged my head against the wall to stop.

My skin blistered and scraggly,
barely there, but still there.

My hunger and thirst unquenched.

I looked around — people stared as if I were vermin,
a filthy vagrant.

I shouted.
I screamed —
at everyone and everything.

But to no one.

I didn’t matter.

So I fell to the ground.

How did I get here?
Where did it come from?

My life, my home —
all destroyed.

I had nothing.
I was nothing.

No one would know me now.

I was so tired —
so tired —
so tired.

I was done.

I lay there —
filthy and broken.

People walked by, over me —
I felt no pain, no blood.

I withered, disgusting —
until vultures gathered,
and rats circled,
ready to feast on my filth.

Then they all stopped —
looking at me with those wide eyes,
pupils blown, no irises.

This time, I smiled and said —

“Go ahead.”

The creatures smiled back —
cruel, sadistic —

Yet I finally felt peace.

As they swarmed my broken body,
I closed my eyes —
and died.


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