Screams can be heard

the obliterate stares of those

who don't have a clue

do they really 

do you

 

The bloody fingernails

scrape the chalk board

and the spine tingling sound

rings throughout the halls

and the fists begin to pound

 

the doors are broken open

and thereupon I stand

with my fingernails bleeding

and the cuts are turning red 

the demons are feeding

 

the black abyss I call my home

I crawl and scratch my way

to home, to hell

where I lay still in the screams

but still feel well