You swore you would stay, but you left me for dead,
you gave me your demons, now they scream in my head.
They whisper like gunshots, they echo like knives,
they poison my marrow, they fracture my life.
You gave me your demons, they rot in my chest,
they drink from my blood and they hollow my rest.
A gun to my temple, their voices command,
red rivers obey them, they drip from my hand.
You smiled through the vow, “I’ll never let go,”
but your demons were loaded in every word so.
You gave me your demons, they burn through my veins,
my blood floods the floorboards, baptized in their chains.
Your demons devour, they claw through my skin,
they bite into marrow and tear me within.
I battle my own, yet you stacked yours on mine,
your demons are shackles, a curse intertwined.
The chamber is loaded, your demons take aim,
the trigger is pulled by the weight of your name.
Bone splinters, blood splatters, they feast where I stand,
a promise exploded by your faithless hand.
Your demons still linger, they rip me apart,
they gnash through the flesh and they feast on my heart.
So I bleed in the silence, too broken to stand,
you gave me your demons—
and the gun in my hand.
But then came an angel, her light breaking through,
a soft voice of mercy, a promise of truth.
She lifted the darkness, she quieted the strife,
reviving my hope and restoring my life.
She showed me the fear that disguised itself steel,
that the blade was illusion, the scars are what’s real.
They shine on my body, bright red where I bled,
and deeper within me, they live in my head.
Yet her light does not falter, it teaches me still,
that broken can breathe, and the wounded can heal.
