Who are they?

I have always believed
in bipolarity of souls
the good and the wicked
inhabit same sphere as we do
fiends and Satan, ghosts too

I see figures coming at me
so vicious, so heartless
they’ll steal my soul
I wonder would they kill fast or torture?
I wonder what they are why they’re here?
they haunt me
suck happiness right out me
fill me with negativity
leave me bitter to my soul
What are these horrendous beasts
Are they demons? Are they fiends?
No, Something much worse
They’re humans.

Scab

I have a gash in my skin
It bleeds life out of me
With time, wound starts to fill in
-wound from my devastating decision
A scab forms on incision
eventually it begins to heal
the pain no more feels real
But I get an urge to peel
the scab off because it itches
Old memories and wounds-
Ah! quite some bitches
Yet I perceive I crave the pain
Why do I not let the cut recover?
Because agony reminds; once I had you
Then you slipped away
like the sun, when it sees the moon
This desire burns me, to see you soon
I keep peeling the skin off and savor the anguish
Scratch the scab knowing it would bleed
This agonizing pain is what I need
For you are the wound and I cant let you alleviate
Can’t let myself recover from you
You’re my catastrophe, still my soul-mate