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Riddance.

I've made mistakes. We all have. That little demon on your shoulder who whispers empty promises. Did I succumb? I did. Giving into his words. Self-loathing. Self-hatred. Little did I know, the demon was imaginary. However it's easier to listen to insults when they are from your own mouth. Your own demon. Friends helped me find the light. The mirror I looked in each morning was easier to look into. The bed I slept it was easier to get out of. However that little demon. He still remains. I wonder when the day will be when I can finally bury him in the ground.
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Written by
brett-burger
Irish
Published
May 18, 2012
Lines·Words
21·104
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