My Demon

My demon came out today,
I stood in front of my father,

my loving father,

And it burst up my rib cage,
brushing it's needle feathers,

against my heart,

and clawed up my throat.

I could have forced it down,
swallowing it back,
deep inside me.

But, I didn’t.

I let it loose.
It looked through my mouth,

at my father,

and grinned.

It let loose a torrent,

of hot, acidic words,

That hit my father’s face,
and I watched.

He became a sculpture.
Face,

an ashen mask of disgust and disbelief and

sorrow.

His own child.
Hurting him.

I watched.
Like an onlooker watching,

a car accident.

I watched my demon smashing my father,

internally,

and I wanted to scream,

IT’S NOT ME!

But, my demon retreated,
into my soul,

I felt it settle into it’s black home,

And I stood,
tears,
drip
drip


Sorry, Dad.

He shook his head,
the wounds
of my demon’s

lashing words,

Still raw, still bleeding.

I stuttered,
It was my demon, Dad.

He smiled,
eyes crinkling

and he looked so tired


beaten.

He opened his mouth,

voice hoarse,
and whispered, shakily,




The demon is you.