The box

How can I ever hope to love another when I am barely a shell of those who used to live here. Haunting my own hallways, thriving in the darkness where I can be my worst self. The demons run things now mucking out what little hope I had left . Love I hear them chuckling oh you poor dear, Love is never one the agenda for you. Using those that used you. Becoming the nightmare they never saw coming. On my walk around the shell of a person I become, my eyes spot the box a beacon of light. The demons draw me in closer oh how you will the box with all the hearts who stole yours. Tonight you let the darkness in filling the shell with all the things no one speaks about: regreat, revenge, hatred, shame, lust, manipulation, you will welcome the dark