Scott Simmons writes

My Favorite Demon

I saw her face again in a dream last night.

A part of me wanted to finally say good bye,

But I just simply told her to go back to hell.

The love was dead but the resentment wasn’t.

She had forgotten about me in roughly a month.

It’s taken me a year to suppress memories of her.

I could never understand just how she left me so fast.

My best friend had become only a mere stranger.

There are now two years forever lost in our missing photographs.

It appears as if I had never existed.

At least we can both meet up in another nightmare someday.

Although I can’t help but wonder if she’s okay.