The Demons We Hide

In a world full of others, we must think to ourselves, why am I here and what must I do.

May one day I be as free as I hope to be.

May one day I realize how desperate that sounds.

May one day I feel half of drowned as I currently lay,
above my troubles,
not stronger than but above.

Tugging and scraping at my thoughts,
pushing and yelling.

Assuming their overlapping positions throughout my mind, spreading every which way without a care,
making my once calm, over calm home,
a place no more my own.

I belong.

Now to what I call the place my demons rest.

Sleeping and walking throughout my consciousness layering beyond and beyond within

Deep within.

My precious skull, precious little interrupted skull

Beg me for your forgiveness now you rotten cold lovely demons.

Wherever my untold happiness may lie,
they know and surround me closely hoping for revival, eternal grace and life.

May I never leave they plea whenever I go near what could be great.

Revealed in my vision I see things,
heavy overbearing things I must keep to my self,
shuffled and tucked away in my array of scattered falling thoughts and memories.

Why I can’t decide which is worse.

Memories and thoughts,
my hidden capturers

Scared yet bold leading me to their secure seemingly endless road to assurance

I am free.

With them I am free to be the drowned mess I want to be. Forever with them I feel entitled to disgraceful thoughts.

Not unfamiliar they are but eerie,
passing through streets late entitled,
hopeless I will wait.

I long to wait.

What I wait for is unknown.

But I do eternally, with no helping positivity or guidance, instead helpers of beyond coming from within telling stories of the past singing memories of my shame and mistakes

Swaying through the breeze of my longing friends

Doomed from birth, disgraced by age.

Unknown I am to myself,

Belonging to no home besides my own with these home grown demons yelling one after another to me.

About me, With me.
Against me, With me.

I lie in a current state of drowning in a bottomless well walls tight and high.

Tight and high they stack around me, as I watch without a choice I watch,
amazed at how tangled and torn I have become with these demons.

I question my place in the world with them.

To the entire universe we mean nothing but to each other we’re all we have.

I’m all they have.

Without me their place is as tragic as mine,
placeless in the closets of millions of people of all ages and abilities.

I can’t describe my mind.

My mind is a never ending puzzle one must get tired of trying to figure out, 
as I am the only one who can do such a thing.

But I lay screwed and tangled unable to figure out what I am even lost in, less known who I am.
Pathetically searching for assurance I am crazy.

I am no longer a nothing.

You see.

I am a pile of bones and blood, skin and tissue.

Within one would cringe at my thoughts,

I cringe at my thoughts.

Yet they continue.

Reviews

[.]

This is a very strongly written, extremely powerful piece of writing.

Thoughts upon thoughts piled into a mass of rage and confusion, doubt and uncertainty. The mind in which the demons of this piece lurk in their silent screaming, is very tormented and unsure of its place in the world.
Strong use of language is displayed in this poem, and it is written like a hurricane pouring forth from the heart and mind, spewing words on to the page.
A very potent, powerful, conflicted write, Dazhanay.

[Dazhanay Wilson]

Thank you so much for this, it truly makes me happy to write. It means alot that you would take the time to read and repond Doodley. :)

[writer_anonymous]

This is a great piece of writing i feel like you had a lot of emotions all scrambled around and bursted with great passion onto a piece of paper

[Dazhanay Wilson]

Yeah pretty much!

[PhoenixDown]

This is fantastic. It's a funny thing to read something and then see that other people are thinking on the same "stuff" as you. I enjoy this piece for the strength and nobility it carries. I am absolutely biased towards it because I can identify with these thoughts, but that aside -- this is so raw, so beautiful.

Your first 2 lines say it all. I feel like I wrote them. Thank you.

[Dazhanay Wilson]

It's nice knowing your feelings are felt by others, and that you've been heard. Thank you so much for this, even in my writing sometimes I feel it's no good and I end up trashing it. I really appreciate you reading. :)

[PhoenixDown]

Keep writing. If it hasn't already, eventually it will feel undeniably true & you will know that it is indisputably great --- regardless of comments or opinions 'n such.
Never trash unless you are sure. Keep a doc for "garbage" if you have to call it such. The thing about writing is you can always come back to it. Never consider something finished & carry the patience to see a longer piece through---------------------all the way to the end.
I don't typically enjoy getting into the habit of leaving lengthy comments, etc -- I despise feeling overwhelming to others -- but you could be the shittiest writer in the world, skillfully speaking, yet if you speak as curiously & thoughtfully as you seem to do, then it just simply doesn't matter. Your voice overrides everything else, so long as it's clear. None of this is to say you lack any technical skills.

[Dazhanay Wilson]

I will and thanks for the advice. I'll keep this in mind.