I’m just dancing with my demons,

Sometimes I feel I’m just fucked in the head.

I can’t be fucking with my demons there’s no sleep in my bed.

Hand in hand with my demons, from the womb to the grave,

This ugly dance with my demons, I just don’t know how to behave.

Some come for me when I’m unconscious and trying to get some rest,

Some are on my shoulders in my waking day, basically begging for death.

They’re all in my head, they’re all in my chest,

They fill my gut and lungs,

Feeling cursed with every breath.

PTSD demon violently makes love to my addiction demon

Spiraling in and out of this same depiction my afflictions have been feeding off my depression and paranoia,

And it’s got me twisted and constantly pissed and i’m just fiendin’ for marijuana

Or a fifth of anything thicker than blood drops in the water.

The insatiable thirst has me drownin’ myself from all the times I compromised my morals, And as the story goes, it’s been horrible 

I can’t seem to get a grasp on living my life for me,

Because I’m to busy trying to stay alive, but never free from various pharmaceuticals precariously I nod and feel the pieces rattle in my brain,

From all the times it broke.

For years I watched the horrors grow

Through my telescope,

wondering if I can live fast or die last

Caged in a mind where there’s such limited room to grow.

Since the strain of my lifeline, life’s fine but it feels a lot like I’m surviving off of borrowed time,

just to see my children go off into this world set up for their own successes

Let daddy take on the weight of the world for them, and clear the messes and the stresses, But in a minor confession, I’m just Wes and Wes is tiptoeing up to the line, patiently waiting for when it’s time to go.

Fantasizing at how many sad eyes would even attend my funeral,

Because the truth is I just don’t wanna be here no more.

And I know it sounds kinda confusing, Trust in my mental perversion,

I’m perturbed when this demon lies to me and makes believe that I’ve deserved to feel deserted

This intoxicating isolation has me chasing shadows in a void of blackness and condemnation.

Trauma and liquor, the perfect combination to create and obliterate the hesitation in my proclamations,

Because facing myself is like chasing my hell through a constantly changing misshapen maze of anticipation fornicating with the mental heavy weights,

Until nothing is left but self loathing annihilation.

As the two carry on with their fornicating, the result becomes fetal alcoholic demons,

Creation with no sense and no concentration.

And it hurts to admit that my brains given birth through that shit,

Raising that Suicidal demon got me poppin’ clutch swinging around like a broken necklace

It’s got me playing double Dutch

when I’m dumpin’ my vane hope and jumpin’ the same rope that I’m about to break my neck with.

One fuckin thousand thoughts a day leading me way the fuck astray.

Like the demons just rolling and basking in my dismay,

Because this face can’t remember a time when 

I wasn’t displaced and feeling disgraced.

Like a fucking red headed step child, Problematic, disfigured, and defaced.

Why’s it always gotta be this way? when the painstakingly dangerous mistakes make me fantasize about taking all the pain away. For fucks sake.

I don’t own any guns,

I’d light up the world with a heater.

All I’ve got are switch blades and fixed blades, Because if I was myself facing the darkness and I found myself to be the weaker,

I’d rather it be a blood bath when I flay myself wide open,

And ear to ear.

This anger I feel, is nothing compared to the hatred I’ve built,

While drowning in guilt.

All sorrows and no shield,

But it’s just the demon taking my joy, so it can heal,

While my own soul falls into the void.

The loneliness has me so abandoned and disconnected,

Sometimes I’m feeling like it’s killing me.

Just like anyone I crave homeliness being love fattened never this neglected, But nobody is ever feeling me.

I put out my lines, poems written so smitten with rhythm and rhymes,

It’s like I’m begging myself to let someone new in.

But the doors been locked, no way out,

Flea bitten, self driven to leave it all behind, Demon of loneliness and despair has me cursed to be alone, even in the end of this failed mission.

Internalizing the pain when I’m witnessing loved ones fall from murder, suicide and addiction,

My dead friends, I miss’em.

Family stays but only on sunny days,

While I’m wishing it would rain don’t nobody else wants to play this way, And be so deranged this way,

Letting go of people, friends of soul

Has become easier than putting a stain in fresh snow.

But it’s not my fault,

That in perceptions all I’ve known is for people to grow cold long before a friendship grows old

For one reason or another, everyone leaves when they’ve gotta go.

I’m just dancing with my demons, bearers of my red flags,

Dancing with my demons, dragging the dead weight of these body bags. 

Dancing with my demons, we hold each other too tight.

Dancing with my demons,

l’ll be lucky enough to survive another night.

Illogically I can feel this throbbing, my body changing possibly toxically

My mind frame surrounding her and through her like an X-ray, I’m practically addicted to her anatomy and biology.

Sometimes it seems as though I was born this way,

Enamored by every figure and shape, every soft hair and pretty face, from cute toes and sexy napes,

I may as well have “cannibal” tattooed across my mandible because I’ve been crazed

Every time I get my fix, just a brush across my lips,

I’ll never be over how much I love the way passion feels, or how skin tastes.

But as I devour you, my Lust Demon gags on my horny soul stuck in its throat, swallowed slow,

Because when I’m attacked, I bite back,

But it’s no act when I say sometimes I’d fuck just about anything with two legs and a butt hole.

But that Lonely Demon and that Sexy Demon go hand in hand,

I try my hardest and can’t take a stand,

No one is safe, no woman nor man,

When I go too long without another humans touch,

My sanity hangs by a single fray of a single strand,

Like building a castle on top of sinking sand.

I’m still not sure how to label it,

When the escorts and strippers call ME, just to tell me I’m their favorite.

She’s making more money in a night than I can make in a month,

But by the time she’s going home after how ever many John’s she has seen,

She’s telling me she’d rather be in my sheets, And for a little taste of how I love,

Because she’s addicted and can’t get enough of the way that I fuck.

That’s just the Demon’s she’s seeing,

Too many demons mean there’s no more room for love,

It’s just the lust of the hunt, pray for my prey, because together we can’t seem to ever get enough.

While they’ve all been eating me recently, I’m queasy but I put on a mask for everyone to believe that peachy and easy.

But when the pain moves so deep. Sleep demon feeding on my mind and poisoning my dreams with moments only imagined and moments that I’ve seen.

Practically in a coma in my nightmares,

But waking up in the middle of nice dreams.

Body’s paralyzed like it’s struggling to survive every night I close my eyes,

Does anybody know what I mean?

Waking up and all of my limbs are numb,

Can’t check the time on my phone, because I can’t even move my thumbs.

It’s frustrating, it’s fucking dumb, I walk through my every day wondering what true rest is like,

And if l’Il ever get some.

I fight back day in and day out, just to take cover from a follow up attack,

And when I check my 6, 6 demons literally got my back.

But there is no relief there, when I’m scared, When I’ve been terrified of rockets and mortars cutting through the air,

When skipping stray bullets have gone past my legs, missed me by a hair,

When my loved ones die so young, and unfair, I’m fully aware that these demons won’t let me die here,

Because they wouldn’t let me die there.

Their game is torturous, getting off on my life that’s tumultuous,

Through my stifled broken tears because the sound of the drops from my eyes is fucking music to their ears.

Been feeling it for years.

Saying goodbye to my kids, no more time for one more hug and kiss,

And in the midst of this I just have to stomach how much I miss’em

Each moment wishin’ I could be with’em,

The only thing my demons haven’t taken from me is this pain in my voice, And the mourning in my rhythm.

While I stare in the mirror, trying to fake a happy face and glee,

All I see is a fuckin army of demons staring right back at me,

While telling myself another lie to dry my eyes, I’I be fine once I count all the blessings I have, But l’ve got more reasons to cry for while, than I have reasons left to smile.

And I swear these tears could rehydrate Africa if I stood in the right place,

Who the fuck am I to hide when I practically have these demons tattooed, all over my face. 

~Wes Castro