Demons

While the noose around my neck
Has been torn to shreds,
I still stand, surrounded,
By the foot of my bed.

While termites climb the legs
Of my sturdy wooden chair,
rusty nails line the walls
And my demons fill the air

I told myself I wouldn't fight it
If death came to me so quick,
So I let them wrap their ice-cold hands
Around my fragile neck.

I stick my hand amongst rust,
Say goodbye to my stability
As I let my demons slowly drain
The last ounce of my sanity.

-nmd

Author's Note

This might be a bit messy. It's the first thing I've written in quite a while. Open to all suggestions.