Living with Demons

Form: Prose Poetry

My mind was haunted. So hideous evil, dark, and cruel the word monster is insufficient and it dwelled inside my mind, haunting my thoughts, wreaking its havoc in my dreams. All day whispering from a distance as my tears cried themselves into hopeless oblivion. All night screaming and degrading me with those names until I thought they owned me. My bleeding, shattered body could see no escape and I stared into that cold mirror seeing the streaks of red on my arms and wondering how they got there while knowing how. I looked into his eyes and heard him say this must stop. Facing the demons calling me names in the street, it didn’t upset me, I’d already called myself worse. I didn’t cry, just kept on walking until their voices fell silent as if they no longer remember my name.

©JGFarmer2020

7 thoughts on “Living with Demons

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