My Demons Play Me Poem by John McAndrew

Only short days ago we were together,
Afloat, in perfect union.
Now, this morning,
Alone, wretched,
I smash upon the rocks.

My demons play me like a paper toy,
All powerful, they pour rivers of molten metal
Into my mind.
My brain, thick, slow, self-defeating,
Trips me,
And tells me,
I cannot have you.

Labouring to beat at all,
My heart aches,
With my own unworthiness,
And I cannot breathe.
And life its very self,
A thing of loathing,
Pain,
And confusion.