My Demons And I Talk Often

A Poem by Tilian Darko

I have a sick obsession.
Self-mutilation and swallowing endless amount of pills.
I want to feel dwarf to top it all off.
As the blood drips deep down my body.
My demons grab my own f*****g heart.
Making me feel less and less every f*****g day.
As I'm lifeless and dead inside I feel nothing left.
I just want my brain to take a rest.
My demons say "no. This is for the best." as they control my mind, heart, and body.
The pain feels normal day by day.
I feel alright yet I can not say I am okay.
They say "I am okay" for me.
Yet that is a lie.
I follow the lie and believed that I am okay.