Guest

There is a guest in the back of my mind In the middle of the night Where sleep is kicking me in He comes in without knocking His steps are silent yet harsh His voice is raspy yet calm His words make wounds All over my body Yet we still sip the drinks Talking and talking and then the fight begins Fight of life and death Sometimes I wonder who he is But while listening to his harsh bloody words I see I feel I know It is my mother coming to see me Coming to break me once again