I’ve been swinging punches in the dark With fists full of borrowed courage Fighting something nameless that attacks And that also breathes when I do. I called it a demon. It knew my every weakness. Where to press. When to whisper. How to make me fall apart quietly. I thought I was brave, For surviving the nights it dragged me through. But tonight, I stopped running. And it stopped chasing. We stood there same breath, same heartbeat, same shaking hands. And I wondered… What kind of monster knows me this well? What kind of enemy sounds like my thoughts? What if the war, Was never out there? What if every scar I carry, has my handwriting on it? What if… I’m the monster, I’ve been trying to kill?
Last night I laid in bed with my face gazing at the ceiling. Tears rolled to my ears as only I knew what and how I was feeling But sometimes I wonder what my pillow thinks every night Knowing it supports my head every time yet I still don't end up alright But how can I explain to an inanimate object what letting out is That I convert my pain to liquid and then send them as tears Weeks ago I got on a call with my cousin and he asked for some cash He has always been helpful to me so I felt bad telling him I didn't have Funny enough I had thought of calling him for some financial assistance But he called first and I disappointed him that instant "It's okay brother, soon we'll look back at moments like this and laugh", he said My eye balls got wet to his encouraging words, hopeful yet I cried instead Today I got a mail from a job I was interviewed months ago to resume in two days Here I lay in bed soaking my pillow again, but I'm sure it understands these ar...