Why do I hate me the most?
Why is the voice in my head of demons not ghosts?
Waking up to music playing in the air vents
And I know they are here visiting again
It’s gonna be a long night
A dance with the devil
Will I silence his knocking
Or smile and say, “Welcome”
It’s going to be a long night
Sending that same text, “I am scared”
Trusting your reply, “Babe, it’s all in your head.”
While my body is drug down under our bed…
Maybe down here, I can finally sleep safe
Picture myself inside of the grave
Listen as they shovel buckets of dirt
It’s a lovely sound as it means no more hurt
Thud after thud, a melody quite like rain
Peaceful and steady, then muffled refrain
Graveyards are places that I always did like to sleep
It’s completely silent, just echoes of time before me
What a comfort it is to just hear nothing
It’s been years since I slept in silence and peace.
But then I come to and I’m still under my bed and the tapping and voices are not in my head
See, my ancestors, my blood—-they knew of this side of life
So some pulled the trigger, some just ran to hide
But looking through pictures I can see it in their eyes, and eyes do not lie-no eyes do not lie
I go on, day in and day out, trying to pray the voices won’t start to shout
People in town say, “We heard she was ill.” And Momma replies, “No, she’s doing well.”
But the inner dialogue started when I was so small, the knowing I’m not worthy to be great, not at all
When they told me stories I really did listen, no half-hearted sentiments, I knew parts of me were missing
Now, I take a pill each morning in my kitchen, to mask the volume of the dark weight that settles in my system
All my life they warned me, “Be careful, the devil wants to get you..”
And I answered them, “At least someone does,” as I pulled my curtains to….
Singing Over My Bones 