all people have demons
that attempt to reduce
and conquer them
i am no different and
each morning I stand
and face my own
my demons are special
known only to me
and tailored to know my weaknesses
where the knife cuts
where a soft word wounds
and festers
sometimes they score straight to the heart
questioning not only my abilities
but the personal relationships with those i love
no one loves me
i am pitied
does he really know anything?
the fight can be subtle.
as it gnaws on the insecurities
and internal perceptions of me
the **** things make me feel alone
an alone that moves with me
hiding the people that care
do you know what it feels
to think people don’t care?
that you’re unimportant?
such are the thoughts of mine
when defenses are down
and i’m feeling weak
many times i fight the good fight
killing such thoughts
with laughter or anger
valiant or not
i do not always win
fear that they are right creep inside me
the real struggle begins
real versus imagined
a fight between selves
long fight or short
nasty or not
i come out ahead
i have to fight back
for there is to much at stake
to let them win
rough day and this lets it out.