My demons, well many poets and writers wax poetic about facing their demons. I have been struggling with this as a person lately being on the tail end of really manic episode, I am faced with a brutal depressive phase, I can only describe as absolutely hellish. So, this is my little ode to my demons.
My demons are unrelenting and cling to my heels like chewing gum. My demons are suspicious and malicious and just don’t give up. They make me want to jump ship. My demons dangle from the paddle of my doomed dingy even though they are the sole reason I left the boat. My demons leave me with very little hope. My demons make me forget how to cope. My demons wind me up tight as rope…do they ever quite?? NOPE
My demons don’t pull punches, they just attack in clusters, formations and bunches, My demons shift gears and throw me a fucking curve ball, this is what I am trying to explain to you all…Yes I have Medications, meditations, cope mechanisms, shaman’s vision’s, I can make good decisions.
Still, my demons
My demons come in the dead of night, My demons are not bark just all bite. My demon’s eat well and take yoga to maintain perfect health…My demons can make a racket or be silent and stealth. My demons love to see me suffer in pain. My demons are arseholes of the highest measure. My demons torment me in all types of weather. My demons refuel at the “Circle K” and gather much needed snacks. My demons make me confuse fiction and facts. My demon’s go on a “Low-Carb” diet. My demons say “Trust us we’re your friends”, but I don’t buy it. My demon’s wear kooky outfits and short cut denim. My demons try to have their way, even though I try not to let ’em.