Late at night there are voices whispering. You turn on the light; nothings there. You turn the light out and go back to sleep. Voices. You hear voices again. Ghosts. Ghosts telling of their past. You compare stories. You realize they're tainting your thoughts. Making you wish you were dead. They press the blade in your hand; they guide it across your skin; they're forcing you. Help. You need help. Someone save me from this occurrence. Someone make them go away. Wishing I was dead is their doing. Scars across my hip & wrist are their claws. They're eating my stability away. Help me out of the dark. Bring the light. Take the monsters away & lock 'em up. Ward off the ghosts. Help me out of this darkness.