what happens to our inner demons when we refuse to face them?
do they go into hiding, building refugee camps out of forgotten parts of our memories? do they stand guard, ever ready to sash out when we lash out, to cry when we cry, to despair, to give up, to die?
what happens when we recruit them to our side?
when we aline ourselves with their footsteps stride for stride?
...how can i answer that in dreams? what was fear i mistook as hate. what was love i mistook for discipline. what was kindness i mistook for understanding. what was forgiveness i mistook as God.
in those lonely moments i let you,
little demons (little quiet things),
stroke my hair, put me to bed, whisper
(cultural) myths into my ear.
whisper myths about each other, about freedom, about empathy, loneliness, life, reality, and about us
- you and i, little demons, you and i.
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