There is something living in me.
An entity.
Walls, bars, steel doors, trapping her deep within.
She yells, she screams
Like an angry, mourning banshee,
To be let out, to be let free.
And once a while she gets her way,
She comes out and asks me to play.
Each time a battle for a game,
Like Potter and the one who must not be named.
“Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.”
Every battle, every victory, mine
Equal scars, equal pain.
And in that moment of peace
We both stand broken, but tall.
Hands like mine, smile like mine.
But eyes darker than that of charcoal.
There’s something living in me.
An entity.
And she may win the war.