I seem to always be in a constant state of fight or flight.
The worst part is that there's no one to fight,
and nowhere to fly to,
because the enemy is Me.
My own thoughts, my demons, they cling to me.
They've
     embedded
        themselves
                   into
                       me
like parasites.
Feeding off of my soul,
day in and day out until I am nothing but a husk.
The only way to escape the torment even for a moment
is to
    cleave
          my
             mind
from the present,
to float somewhere between this reality
and the one that the devil on my shoulder
tries to convince me is true.

But there's always still a part of me that holds on down below, in the present, in the real world, so that I can reel myself back in again. So I don't completely drift away like a kite slipping through a child's grasp on a windy day. Drifting on an updraft, whirling and twirling upwards and into the clouds..

    Hell...

       Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

            Maybe next time,
I'll just let go of the string.