My demons are mostly made of desire and curiosity.
The curiosity of things I've been against my whole life,
Things I should be against by principal and experience,
As well as the desire for the things I've tried,
The things I knew I should stay away from. Desire is the worst of the demons, because oft times, it’s wrapped in lies.
Desire makes you want what you know you shouldn't,
Things you know would upset others, things that would bring your life
Crashing down around
We spend eight hours a night, on average, practicing for death.
Letting go of the consciousness we fight so hard for in the end.
We slip into the unknown, night after night, with no promise of waking.
Am I not the only one who thinks that should be terrifying? Have we developed such overwhelming object permanence that we believe not only that everything will still be there when we open our eyes in the morning, but that we are, ourselves, permanent objects? We wear the evid
Ruining the fun again
With my nervous expression
A smile that isn’t quite convincing Stifling the chemicals rushing around
Coursing through my body
Telling me I’m in danger
I know I’m not in danger; I am safe But my brain betrays me
Preparing for a battle
Or the run of my life
This fight is getting old Amy Shankle is based in Bakersfield, California. She is currently studying English and works as a freelance copyeditor. She regularly writes poetry surrounding her own
I attack my panic tonight at 9-paper view ESPN, coming to you live.
Sad Sav steps in the ring, fists clenched-fighting for the belt.
Her record is not looking good but I hear she asked for help.
In her corner tonight is an all-star team of positive thoughts, taking a walk, and deep breathing.
But her opponent is fierce - undefeated, mountebank, and relentless.
A household name and a heavy weight champion.
In its corner it has depression, and Ms. Addiction the Temptress.
We use it to tell our bodies what to do Raise our heads, wash our hands move our limbs any direction we need to. lie or sit, or kneel, or stand. There are so many pieces at work Dry our eyes, clean our face from wiggling toes to a grinning smirk.
make the tears disappear without a trace. Sensors signal nerves to stand on alert Arrange our mouths into a flashy smile decide whether to assert or divert.
stash away the hurt for a little while. Make a choice to