scratch.

There are monsters in our bellies that poke at our emotions the second the devil on our shoulder snaps his fingers. They are faithful and devoted and on a constant, ticking clock until the devil feels like playing frisbee. They come out in the tears that you cry and the steam from your angry ears. They come out in the clench of your fists and the stamps of your feet. They tickle the back of your neck as you watch your old love put his hand on another girl's thigh. They scratch at your cheeks when you've stayed up all night studying for an exam that you fail the next day. They blow on your eyelids when you are announced second place. They're uncomfortable, itchy and annoying. yet constant. They trampoline on your chest when he hasn't called, seven days after he watched you undress. They swim down your throat along with the whiskey you ironically use to try to maintain your balance. And the devil's snare could drown you at the sight, yet you feel the need to smile at him with respect. And the weight of the crashing waves you endure makes it impossible to feel healthy, with each step i take; a monster will pinch. and they whisper to you as you dream, and waltz across your brain just trying to have a little bit of fun. and when you wake, they are asleep. and your eyes open and all is clear but as soon as you sit up, with the slightest of hope, they push you back to rest.