What If I’m the Monster?

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?

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