Poems · writing

Sciamachy

Walking down to school today—I hear one of those demons calling my name

Vapors whisper through my head

Sweetly they croon, wishing me dead

Daring me, they challenge, say, “what’s left to keep you here this way?” 

Knees buckle, I start to roam,

Thoughts race to every sickness I’ve ever known

Family ties, promises muddled, every tear fallen to the floor, puddled.

But when before I’d give into these secret fears,

Something stands within me, up out of the years.

Banishing this curse, this plight. 

Worries that keep me up at night 

They will never become me. I will never give in. 

I can still hear them whisper, “just let me win”

But bloodlines are a fickle thing

I’ll put an end to this suffering. 

Raise the chalice to my lips

I will not drink from it. 

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