i told him about my demons,
and he told me about his.
he told me they found him
when he was only a kid.
he was afraid of telling people,
because he was terrified of them
thinking that he was crazy.
he said:
"sometimes i think it's myself,
in my own voice talking
to me. if that makes sense."
i cried, i cried because
i never knew,
a boy like him
would be fighting demons
at such a young age.
he would stay up late at night
because that's when the voices
got louder,
no one else
heard them
but him.
he didn't deserve to be
left alone with voices
and having no one to help him,
no one to talk too.
he thought it was normal,
to be bullied by his own mind.
sitting there, isolating himself
from the world,
picking out his insecurities
every nightmare,
hating himself
was the only way he could cope.
he thought it would be best to just
ignore them, and they would
go away.
but he doesn't deserve that,
he didn't deserve it at all
he was only nine.
he had nightmares, he never slept.
how strong could a kid be back then?

"when i was like 9 or 10 
it always told me 
everyone hated me,
no one cared about me 
and i thought there was something
inside of me.
or me talking to myself,
it kept telling me that
and every night 
i always had nightmares.
i didnt know how to control it, 
one day i just didnt listen to it 
and thought about good things 
and it went away,
i dont know how,
i don't know what i did,
it just went away."

-b.m