SUCCUMB TO DEFEAT
CONVERSING WITH MY DEMONS
I lie suspended in animation in conversation with my demons. Jaded with stories to tell. A part of me was grateful for the distraction.
It was this foolishness, this desire to be something I wasn’t, that got me held into captivity that I couldn’t break free, which was considered a fault, an undesirable trait. My jaw tightened at the realization.
“I know I am a failure, but leave my cursed name off your lips.” I scolded those demons. “I will not let you stain my conscience with your tainted lies.”
I wanted to break this pattern, some labeled depression. I tried to seek help and ignore their torments.
I didn’t let myself think it through. And for a brief moment, the mental battle lost all meaning.
I wanted it to be uncomplicated.
I was submerged and racing towards what felt like a faraway infinity.
“I am defeated,” my final words.
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