Whipping Boy  − 15 January, 2008

I have a demon, lives inside me, sleeps upon the floor.
He tries to make things right but he just fucks it up some more.
He’s chained up to the doghouse wall; he cowers on his knees.
But hanging on the door within his reach is all the keys.

He thinks that he created me and all the life I live.
He thinks me far too perfect to be able to forgive.
He doesn’t know the secrets that I hold before his eyes
and so he tries to fool me with a myriad of guise.

I check up on him now and then to watch him at his game.
He cuts off all his fingers and he whips himself in shame.
His wounds will heal instantly and fingers grow again,
but he won’t comprehend that all this strength will heal his pain.

This morbid joke goes on and on and all I do is see.
His ever-present hope that he won’t pick up is the key.
He thinks he wants to kill me and he thinks he wants to die.
But I know that his inner want is always just to try.

My inner demon whipping boy is getting on my nerves.
If he could only see that life not sucking he deserves
then everything would fall in place and self control would be
unnecessary. Whipping Boy, it’s time you heeded me.

© 2008 Alexis Heikkinen