Angel to my left,
Devil to my right
And how my back ached
But just when I thought
I had no shoulder left,
Paranoia peered out from
behind my vertebrae.

I turned to the Angel.
"What is your name, Angel?"
She responded, "Margarette."
I turned to the Devil.
"What of you, Devil?"
"Peter," He said.

Paranoia straightened his back
And turned his face inside-out.
"Liars! Liars! Liars!"

They cut open his chest, took his lungs,
And left him for dead.

Three hours later I was eating glass, tasting blood, and loving every minute of it.