Demon

  

I hear screaming, 

and crying, 

and shouting. 

Gibberish thrown back and forth,

sentences more and more chaotic

as the night lingers on. Glistening

water falls atop broken eyes,

darkness etched into sorrowful 

silhouettes. A song replays over 

and over again, the same vile lullaby 

running through a drug, a medicine 

only the angels could handle. 

 

More screaming,

more crying,

more shouting.

 

Huddled in the corner, tiny knees 

drawn up to symphonic melodies, 

silent elegies written to no one in

particular. Cover those ears, hum a

melody, think of happier times

from a previous life; a hollow smile

within cracked lips.  

 

Walk into an enchanted forest, where 

a young girl waves me over, a wisp of 

melancholy in their thoughts. She wants 

something from me, though I donŐt

know what. 

 

Shadows decorate my frail body. Take 

its hand, lead me from the dying and 

decaying. Did glass break? Was someone 

hurting? No, she says. EverythingŐs fine.

EverythingŐs -

 

Door slams open, rays of heavenly light 

streaming into the forest. Then it slams 

shut, and she disappears, the melodies 

gone, symphonies drowning in the 

cacophony of those waterfalls. Strong

arms scoop me up, salty streams

slipping through emotional erosion. 

 

An angel, I see. 

 

A black-haired, trembling angel.

 

Divorce?

What divorce?

Kicked my head. 

A monster.

DonŐt know him. 

Stay with me, 

or stay with him.

Had enough.

You donŐt love me. 

You donŐt love him.

 

I close my eyes. I still see her there. 

She beckons for me, points to my tiny 

heart. Says sheŐll sow it up, good as 

new. No scars, no wounds, no memory 

of whatŐd happened. 

 

Say something.

Me or him? 

Do you love me?

Do you love me?

Do you love me?

 

Get rid of all the pain, and the hurt. 

ThereŐs nothing that could hurt me

anymore,  

as long as it told me I was fine.

 

Do you love me?

No, I donŐt.

Do you love me?

Yes, I do. 

And like she said, she sowed up my

heart for 

the 

next

 

day. 

 

 

© Robin Goodfellow

 

Bio:  Robin Goodfellow is a student at the University of North Texas. She first became interested in writing when she was three, scribbling all over her parents' walls and imagining herself in old fairytales while walking in her father's garden. Since then, she has published poems in the online magazine, Nature Writing, as well as the Haiku Journal and Healing Poetry