91.

surface
barely scratched
the demons
clawing away
whispering their false truths into a believing soul
outward appearances
perception might as well be reality
but this is a betrayal
to the actual truth
self-loathing
each moment becoming increasingly heavy
like the words from your parents about an impending divorce
there are two types of hatred
the type that erupts when confronted
and the type that is slow moving
quietly in the background of every happy memory you can conjure
mounting further and further
so when the waters turn red,
don't be surprised if my final gesture is a smile