Chasing Demons

It is more convoluted, than just
a throbbing demand for blood.
It is more labyrinthine than simply
knowing that I will stand, bloody faced
and victorious, heart pounding against
my rib cage. A reminder that the trophy blood
that drips from my hands, is not mine.
It belongs to one of the demons that has tracked me
for too many years, lurking. In that few seconds before
day becomes night, waiting relentlessly to swallow
whole the rare moments when I am able to
fall asleep with out first having to run my fingers
along the blades hidden beneath my bed,
just to comfort my mind before close my eyes.
The corpse, black and burnt, will not stand again.
But there are more where this one came from.
Its more complicated than positive talk and
encouragement. Its more complicated than
a patronizing pat on the back, telling me that
everything will be alright. Words mean nothing
coming from those who have never buried torment
beneath the dirt. Those who have never been so afraid that
the deepest pit would be a welcome sanctuary, of quiet and
a freedom from the constant persecution of
the unseen that are as permanent as your own shadow.
While my talk sounds like that of a lunatic,
perhaps what ordinary folk see as baggage,
I see as a cement block with a face and a menacing
mission to weight me to the floor of the nearest deep
stretch of blackness. Unvisited by angels or merciful gods.
A private hell, where breathing is hard, seeing is impossible,
and an eternity of struggling would be my sentence.
It is so much more charged than running from the past.
The space for failure is vast, but all my truth
needs a small window of opportunity.
A moment of clarity. Or courage, and of blind rage.
As they are my demons, I know them intimately.
Faces, names, game style, and we are creatures of habit.
I can kill them, and I will. I will spill blood, and torch
the fleshy remains. They will be buried.
There will be blank tombstones, and there will be no visits.
Just freedom to move faster. Breathe easier,
and to fall asleep at night,
unafraid of the dark.