The She Devil

The consumer of realities
The merger of identities

The tickle on your toes beneath the sheets
The pull at your eyes when you can’t fall asleep
The feeling in your gut when the pendulum greets the peak

The itch under your foot when you just laced your shoes
The panic of alert when you forgot you pressed snooze
The feeling of defeat when faced with the inability to choose

The unclenched release of a sneeze not set free
The presence in the dark when you’re unable to see

All these things and more
Only Eight days a week

A contract of months
Extended for a dozen more

Irresponsibility breaking the darkened chambers
Locked behind your bedroom door

If only you could shut it out
For only an hour
Or just a single moment


If only you could breath
Through the non-existent gaps
Found in the barrel at your knees

Fluid fills your lungs
Pouring from an excess in your liver

Joining with the smoke clouds
In pursuit of a denied terror

Shrouded by the visions of failure
The pressure of commitment

A villainous thought
Protecting the individuals heart

The destruction of life’s future
Hope in the eyes of a girl


Bewitching and clouded with intent

The screech of a banshee wails
Linking to the ring in your ears

Perfectly in tune
Unnoticed in the room

An empathetic harmonization
Designed through a cloak of disguise

A wild rover
Once destined for greatness

Stripped of the brilliance
Of the wealth in life

Pockets emptied to the eyes of a girl
Soul drained to the stomach of an evil

But no more shall he roam
A wild river once more

Shielded by the memories of yesterday
Guided by the scars of tomorrow

A wild rover he shall be
Nay, never more for thee



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Aaren Herron

Creative writer working to hone his craft, no longer at the expense of a mental state.