I provoke my demons, demonstrating
ways they can hurt me and invoke them to do so.
Choking them up, one by one, my fingers draped,
my senses blurred, mind emptied of their
nagging, stomach twisting as I realize what I did.
I watch them swirl, I watch them leave,
and I'm left with their staining guilt again.
Do I hold one strength if all I feel is weakness?
These demons want to win, and I always give in.
I pretend I'm in control until it seeps in;
straining my muscles, I failed again.
Constantly invited to events that
feel cathartic, but borderline insanity.
Emotions are high, devotion renewed,
I was used again.
I threw up again.