A skylit shower, a candle, 

Bon Iver: Holocene, and me, 

Furiously trying to scrub away the sins of my past.

Staring up at the night sky, I notice my hands,

Gripped tightly around my neck.

I try to wash them clean, but the blood remains.

Steam drifts over the skylight, as I fall to my knees.

I’ve always preferred blunt weapons.

The rage cannot be quenched,

Quite like it can,

When breaking skin,

And crushing bone,

“Noordhoek” by Shaun Dean

I heard his car pull up.

"Hell is knocking, and the demon inside of me is reaching for the door."

I flew down flights of stairs, 

With the Devil's deal fresh on my lips.

His leg snapped, 

I remember feeling it. 

He was a wild animal, 

His scream was chilling, 

But I didn’t feel the cold. 

I felt his shoulder leave the socket, 

He slumped into me, body limp, 

I didn’t stop. 

I don’t know how many times I hit him, 

I just remember the faces, 

The horrified onlookers, 

Looking down from their balconies, 

At the beast I had become. 

I could hear the sirens, 

I could feel the clarity, 

 So I ran.

Away from my demons, 

Away from that rage.