Prologue
(Scarecrow)

I

I used to be afraid

of the dark.

I’d jump at things,

that would go bump in the night.

But then I realized,

I was scarier

then the ghosts that haunt me.

They haunted me.

Now I haunt them.

my skeletons don’t rattle anymore,

they keep quiet in my closet,

and even my shadow is afraid.

People think I’ve conquered depression.

They look at me and think: 

look at his smile, he seems happy now. 

But it’s just a mask that I wear 

because even I’m terrified 

of who I see in the mirror. 

I cut away the parts

of me that made me human.

I did it to survive, 

I bled myself dry of emotion,

that was killing me—

ripping open my veins, 

not realizing I was letting 

the happiness out too.

II

She asks me why I’m not afraid of her demons,

and I have to catch myself from laughing.

She hasn’t learned yet

that I’m the scariest thing in the room.

And for a moment, I’m not sure

if I want to explain this one to her.

Because I’m starting to think

the girl who’s afraid of falling asleep,

because of the ghosts that haunt her dreams-

won’t take to the fact

she’s been sleeping with a monster.

But I know it’s gonna’ come out eventually

so I say: 

I guess

I’ve just been fighting things that go bump in the night

for so long that nothing really scares me anymore.

And that I’ve torn myself up inside and out,

disfiguring parts of me you can’t see

just so I can get out of bed with a smile on my face.

so I figure the skeletons have just learned to fear of me.

and she smiles, looks at me and says

well I guess I found myself a scarecrow.

and it’s funny,

that’s the first time-

in a long time-

I’ve felt human.

I never realized the irony.
Those years, with her, were the least human
I've ever been.

III

He tells me, 

about all the bodies he’s left 

in his wake. 

Goes into great detail, 

about every noose he’s tied, 

all the guns he’s loaded, 

He tells me about all the people, 

he’s pushed off bridges, and buildings. 

He never bats an eye, 

or skips a beat when he tells me 

about all the murders 

we’ve called suicide.

And he laughs. 

When I tell him, 

that I won’t be another victim.

He just laughs and says— 

that’s what they all say.