Sometimes I swear these demons sing melodies made from scraps of soul food.
songs to steal your sorrow lyrics cooked from stolen words carved from the flesh of a page.
Their chicken noodle soup fills my eardrums and drowns out all the world that exists outside my throat
gratefully guzzling soup to warm all the coldness all the loneliness within my fragile frame.
But. Does it taste just a little like deceit?