where my demons hide
maybe someone will hear me and understand that it’s harder than it looks to be alive and when I suffered from anorexia and people stared and didn’t offer to help me maybe that was because I’m useless and maybe my self-pity all leads back to my demons hiding.
my demons comfort me in ways in which others do not understand but I understand them and sometimes when I’m alone I cry and I think this is the demons coming out from hiding.
and when my mother said I am useless I cried and I laughed because the demons say so too and it feels like a warm hug.
there are multitudes of reasons not to listen to your demons but for me this is impossible and I am constantly fighting them in my mind while trying to focus on life but they are loud loud loud.
and the loud loud loud demons fight for my attention and while this is bad it does distract me from my life.
demons provide comfort provide stability in thought provide consistent love.
the world is brighter.
the sunset holds untold wonders.
i sleep soundly,
and my dreams are random and meaningless,
just the way i like them.
food no longer tastes like dust,
i savor every calorie
without wanting to spit them back out.
these days, i'm okay.
and i hate it.
i don't know who i am
without dark skies and fuzzy vision.
i don't know who i am
without nightmares lurking under my eyelids.
who i am without my demons,
they comfort me
in knowing that, through the pain,
i will always know who i am.
i can be Depressed.
i can be Anxiety.
i can be Ugly.
these are things i know how to be.
but now my demons are gone,
leaving me with Okay.
and i miss them.
i miss the insults whispered in my ear
and the lies and the pain.
and i want them back,
because my demons comfort me.
and i don't know who i am
without a devil on both shoulders.
You try and call me out of it
Snap me out of this evil state
Try to pull me out of this dark pit
But I stubbornly refuse to call for help
You say I need to get support
Just go see someone
Tell those who raised me to be who I am
But I straighten my back and rebel
You have called me stupidly stubborn
You were right; I am
I know what would be good for me
But I allow myself to fall
Stop building up the walls,
Stop kicking out the people,
Stop cutting all you have to pieces,
But what else am I supposed to do?
I don’t want the help,
I don’t want the cutting apart to stop,
And even when I do, I am reminded:
My demons comfort me.
Without them in my miserable life,
I could so easily get somewhere.
But, I know that I will fall in a different way then,
For suddenly I won’t need a rescuer.
Leave my demons,
They are trying to attract the hero of my story.
And yes, I might break before I am rescued,
But then I was the weakling.
I am an idiot.
Broken and shattered...
I know that I am falling apart more and more,
Every time that I don't call out for some assistance,
Every time that I allow another trial to beat me down.
But, my dear,
Diamonds aren’t formed when it is going well;
It takes the pressure, it takes the trial
And even if I’ll end up being a flawed diamond:
I’ll still be worth more than those stones.
Cause, I am still here.
Stood up again after that last fall.
Stiffened my back.
Got the soundtrack ready to play; today will be another trial of a day.
And when it gets too hard to take?
Well, I hope my demons will comfort me again,
Hopefully not decide to finally take my life.
If they do?
Well, what did I say earlier?
I'm a fool and an idiot;
Play with fire and you get turned into ashes...
May I rest in peace.
my demons comfort me.
even when i want to be alone,
they are there, in the darker corners of my head,
choking me with their embraces and whispering deadly sweet nothings.
There are days when I feel like crying. There are days when I feel like dying. There are days when I don't want to eat, but I do it anyways. There are days when I get so much sleep, but I'm still so tired.
There are days when I feel like crying because I'm told I'm not importaint. There are days when I feel like dying because I'm constantly told I'm a disapointment. There are day's were I don't want to eat, but do it because I can't be an attention seeker. There are days when I get so much sleep and yet I'm still tired, no, that's not how sleep works.
I feel like everyone around me doesn't understand. That the people I live closest to think they know me when they really don't, but that's just me being an emo, right? Because I'm just an open book, publically being read by everyone who leaves their eyes on me.
I'm just a silly teenager who doesn't know anything. Psh! I can't know how the world works! I'm only in my early teens! I don't know about how everyone suffers! I don't know about how it's life or death! How things are shit! How the world can go fuck itself! But no, if I have that kind of out look, I'll just go on being depressed.
I feel like no one understands. No, I know no one understands. Wait... such words are lies. There is one person and one person alone.
I loath them, this person. If I could kill this person I would, without hesatation. They are so stupid idiotic. An idiot. They look horendous and is just about everything I hate. Their personallity is shit. They're a fucking demon, my demon. This stupid demon comforts me. Because....
This demon is me.
Ahh so this is death...
I killed my old self and stained my lips red with the blood because it looked pretty.
My nails turned black with the soot from the incinerator as I watched myself burn.
My once melanin rich skin drained from me mixed with my blood and grew flowers at my feet.
My demons comfort me as they run their ash coated fingers through my hair and pull me close, providing the embrace that I so longed for.
"Ahhh, so this is death?"
It's a strange and peculiar feeling;
to sit with ones demons,
I bathe in the waters of my afflictions
with a great stillness.
A calming sense of love, and fullness
- comforted by my demons.
To wallow in the pain,
to stew in my own filth and dirt,
to be oh-so-comfy with disgust.
It's how I've always been
- comfortable with my own discomfort -
a place all of my own
where no-one dares to trudge.
My soul lays bare,
for me to see,
my demons are free
whoever they wish,
away from me,
but they sit, in comfort,
by my side,
and in my mind.
My Demons Comfort Me
Some of them do at least.
Anxiety and Anger like me not
But Misery loves company.
As I sit and cry,
I'm joined by a demon,
Who cries with me
As if hurt just as I.
What did I do to have a friend like this?
I don't know.
At least this demon is a comfort
not a hindrance.
I feel Him rest his claws on my back. I look up at Him with a smile, his long fingers running to my for a side hug. He wasn’t the talkative kind, He only spoke through body language. He always came to my backup when people said I was crazy, although, nobody else but me could see Him. We had different diets, but that didn’t differ us. As a kid I made drawings of Him and me together. I remembered all of that. Now I sit in a room, watching the stars shimmer outside the window. I gaze up at Him, his smile forgiving.
They tell me lies,
for they believe
the Father of Lies,
that what he "promises"
is worth it.
"No, you won't
go to Hell if you
"You can pray later."
Weeks pass and you still have not prayed.
"You can seek God another day."
God required your soul that very night.
"You don't need to read the Bible."
You have no weapon against the lies, and you fall for them every time.
But those lies sure are comforting,
since they ignore the Truth.
The Way is narrow, but they'll tell you you're on it, even though the Bible says that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of Heaven.
The Way, Truth, and Life is Jesus, but they'll do anything to get you to not believe it, to not trust it.
Cry out to God for mercy,
for a saving knowledge of the Truth-- Jesus died to save you from God's wrath and so you could be molded into the image of Christ Jesus-- before you end up comforted by those lies