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?