The demons rage.
The highs.
The lows.

The rage, the urge to fight.
The feeling of being a burden,
why am I still here?
Why can't I give up?

The high, its coming back,
I can't give up.
There are so many people that need my help.
I have to prove those that have hurt me
that I am so much more.

The high its going higher.
I haven't slept in days.
Why must I become the evil
That I fight.
Why do I find so much glee
in causing mayhem?
Why do I fight the very people I want to become?

Oh no, here comes the crash.
The remorse, the guilt.
I'm sorry for everything.
Please just let me die.
I fall behind in homework.
The scars grow in numbers again.
I can't, I won't fight back.
Please just leave me alone.

Some how I put on my uniform.
I strap myself into my bullet proof vest.
I buckle my duty belt.
I check my gun, my pepper spray, my handcuffs.
Knowing that if something happens,
even though I want to die,
evil cannot win.
I will fight.
I wish those weapons would fight the demons inside me.

Instead I take my pills.
I pull on my boots.
Polish my badge and name tag.
I get in my squad.
I go protect the people at my post.

The demon is back.
I'm feeling restless.
Will it ever stop?
Please!?
Help?!