My arms are littered with bruises from the pressure of my teeth, Too afraid of the permanence of scars. My friends eyes red with lack of sleep, And fingernail marks from where ive gripped them in panic. They had to lift me from the floor, And carry me to the couch, Where they pleaded for me to come back to them, Back to where they were. I was stuck in the memory, Reliving that night. Their hands were her hands, Their voices his voice. Their touch sent me into shock as they fought to comfort me. It was a rollercoaster of tears, screaming, shaking and madness. Sometimes i was here, sometimes i was there again. Until i fell asleep, i shook violently; The chill starting in my bones. I wept on my friend's chest as he held me as we slept. He had nothing to offer but his arms and his warmth; For the demons im fighting are in my head. And the reasons are coming back to town.