These demons find comfort on my chest
and my heaving is music that puts them to rest.
Although every so often their voices may not weep,
they begin to screech as soon as my mind wants to sleep.
I listen to them whimper,
letting them convince me that I’m not who I believed in.
Sometimes they fill my head with a cold-hearted whisper,
making me question my very being.
For as long as I remember, I’ve played with my demons a game of tug of war.
But every time I believed in winning, they would shout and they would roar.
For quite a time I felt invincible, just a short pull away from the win
but the cloud of doubt begins to pour and I let loose again.
They persuade me that they are indeed a part of me,
as if the battle was against my mind over this empty, soulless body.
People say that the best way to defeat your enemy is to change it’s voice, not to silence it.
So, while my demons try to serenade me with notes of fear and desolation,
I learn how to swoon them with songs of love and determination.