When I mention my demons
You picture creatures of horror
Contorted faces of terror
Alive to haunt my dreams
And corrupt my mind
With malicious laughter
You imagine twisted voices
Laced with insanity
That push me into the dark
With a touch as cold as a knife’s steel blade
You fear the thought of them
Of me
But my demons are gentle
They’re quiet
I feel their warm breath against my ears
When they whisper softly
Perhaps you don’t hear them because you aren’t listening
For their sharp words
Are said out of love
And their nails digging into my skull
Are only there to keep me safe
In the absence of their presence
I am worse
Which is why I let them stay
Because my demons are real