All my old demons are scratching at the door,
The loyal guard dogs I can’t seem to lose,
They’re begging for treats ‘cause they’ve been so good,
I can count on them to remember the same dark roads.
There’s alcohol in my closet and on my tongue again,
A half empty bottle hidden in one of the boots,
Because my mom’s old tricks are my only inheritance,
Haven’t you heard vicious circles were meant to continue?
But I’m not as young as I was last time,
The clock keeps ticking and my heart keeps beating,
And it’s not that I’m out of time but I’m out of patience,
I’m much too old to keep acting like a teenager.
Oh, but the dogs keep barking and I need to feed them,
Before they rip me to shreds and let me bleed out,
Because I can’t be sane and I need to hide the crazy,
If I stay in bed today maybe I can smile tomorrow.
I wonder if the demons will ever die,
Even if I can’t find the strength to starve them away,
Will a cocktail of pills drive them away for good,
Or just lead me to a deeper abyss?
They said the world was my oyster,
And I was naive enough to believe them,
And maybe they were right but they forgot one thing,
My brain is my prison cell and I can’t break out,
Not with the guard demons blocking the exit.
© Richela Rosales Maroto 2018