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When the Demons Let Me Go

I cried myself to sleep again
As I looked at the person in the mirror—
What I could have been
If I didn’t have this illness,
If I didn’t have this “person” define me.

I know it is untrue.
I know it is unjust.
Yet, I can’t stop it.

I am aware of the monsters inside my head.
I talk to them daily.
I care for them.
I feed them.
But they never wanted to leave.

I pray to God as I lay my knees—
To take away the pain,
To take away the sorrow.
But I still cannot let them die.

Perhaps,
I don’t want to let them die.

I look on as I lose what I love.
I look on as I abandon what I cherish.

And then,
I cocooned myself into a rotten, filthy insect—
As I sleep for centuries and millennia.

I pray to wake up to a better tomorrow,
Where the demons finally agreed
To leave my soul.

And that is when
I will truly rest—
And be happy.

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