Inside

Because we are
what We Are,
the horror we have known (and
it is a horror) is
one borne
of flesh and blood.
We bear the children
of our desires,
these scars of the mind
(scars of mine),
these scabs of poor choices still picked at,
still weeping
(still throbbing,
never stopping),
the shrieking terror in the night
is our kin;
we call it brother,
sister,
and we welcome it inside
and give it a place to sleep.