The Demon Chronicles (two poems on possession)

#1:

He's here too. Always.

Eyes like the underbelly

of the moon. Inside

my fleshy walls, the demon.

Grinding teeth. My words eaten.

Find me in the cracks. Scratching.

#2:

It's not so soft when he grabs in the dark.

To beg me for control—to eat me up.

Enjoy the bitter taste, so bright, so stark.

Leave me, an unholy, barren burnup.

Please don't judge when I want to be taken.

The way he wants it. The way I let him.

He'll bite and I'll watch him partake in

Fill him up until he's full—to the brim.

I'll thrash and scream, like I'm supposed to do.

And push away advances, though it's need—

by now to breathe in my addiction, too.

Like air, for him. For me, and we proceed.

Brutal gods now fused, confused. Demons, two.

Or one. Too late now to ask: “Who are you?”