Jonny Brackney

sometimes i feel the devil
and his dirty eyes
watching.
haunting me.
taunting me.
burning me alive...
inviting me to fall
into a comfortable numb.
but in that numb
a hatred dwells, smirking in the shadows.
i shrug him off and
move along
pretend he isn't there.
my inner madness spills into a
thin black ink.
so you can read
what your eyes
would never
see.
while i sit
grinding teeth,
spitting thoughts from my fingers.
hurting and feeling.
living with
myself.