I once dreamt of a demon
Who wore a slice of aluminum foil
On his middle finger,
Waving the shard around
like a light among his darkness.

It blinded me everytime
I went to defeat him,
That tiny speck,
And I was left enthralled
Captivated and starstruck.

I had learned to rely
On the faux-candle,
For it was what kept my attention,
Despite the fact
That its owner was killing me.

I once dreamt of a demon
Who told me it respected me,
When it was trying to console
My desire for the shadowling
That is Depression.

We danced every night,
Sometimes on the edge
Of a windowsill,
Other times on the brink
Of exhaustion.

But one thing never changed:
It was the smallness
Of the foil,
And how its beauty
Had me coming back for more.