Complaint 87.1

My Demon Friend
by Marie E. Kopp

He lives under my bed. We have a deal. I don’t stick my feet over the edge, he doesn’t grab.

I don’t scream.

He hates it, says it’s worse than a banshee’s. “It’s like a tin rooster. Gives me a migraine like incense does.”

So he lies there, telling me his existential fears, and I’m careful not to let any limbs slip over. If he catches one when I’m asleep, I might be too slow on the draw. Game over.

Maybe I’ve grown cocky, but I don’t think he’d follow through.

He likes the game too much.

Marie E. Kopp (she/her) is a writer living on the outskirts of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, with her demon-child cat, Oliver. Her work centers on her experience of bipolar 1 disorder, the deconstruction of her traditionalist Catholic faith and values, and her newfound exploration of the erotic as a queer and disabled female in our harsh contemporary American landscape. She used to write the Shoeless Banshee column for Patheos Catholic. Her poetry has been published by the Ethel Zine, Apparition Lit, and Silent Spark Press. She can be found on twitter @ShoelessBanshee.

Image by René Bittner from Pixabay.

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