In the canyons between the grey matter, lives something much darker. Swimming comfortably in the river of my mind.
Her voice sounds like mine. Her face a perfect reflection.
Invading my thoughts with whispered obscenities. Filling my vision with clouded water.
Her presence is shifty. Here one day and gone the next, but she never really is.
They tell you not to name your demons But itβs hard when they already have one.
I have an intruder living inside me. And the scariest part is that she is me.
Sometimes it feels like I have two people living inside of me. There is me and there is the Other me. The other me is cold and cruel, often overly brash. I donβt like the other me, but I suppose no one ever does.