She still visits me sometimes...
In the night, she clambers into my bed
and causes a ruckus of negativity in my head.
She plays the strings of my heart
like the most beautiful harp,
baring the music of my soul to those not worthy of hearing it.
I have never found it easy
to say no.
I always allow myself to fall victim
to her terribly soothing caress
and her enigmatic portrait of the end.
She entices me
with her promises
Like a bird learning to fly,
I will fall from the sky,
and never be able to lift my broken wings again.
Her scent clings to my body,
and I can still feel her presence days later,
when I look at the paintings she has left in my skin.
She will never leave me,
and I will always know
the weight of her arms on my shoulders
always pulling me back,
towards the darkness.