To my own demons:

To my own demons:
 Internal weakness, sin of sloth, why must you chain me down so?
  You stalk me at every corner, dulling my passions and keeping me in bed, siphoning my motivation and leaving me paralyzed. I have the future in front of my hands, just out of reach.
I want to leap forward, make a leap of faith towards the light, yet you are a merciless rope around my neck.
You are the poison of my life, the bad luck plaguing my every achievement, the stain in my self-confidence I can never purge.
You are panic, a thousand knives through my heart draining it of life as it struggles to beat, flailing around, wrenching, doing anything to make me collapse under the pressure.
You are everything I am not, the wall of my limits, the void where my dreams go to die.
You are the whisper in the back of my mind, saying:
“Don’t try. You’re not good enough.”
“You never were, nor will you ever be.”
“You’re better as a corpse.”
You are a force of obliteration, urging me to give up on everything and truly become nothing.
You are me, my own greatest enemy.

No.
You are not me.
 I will not give in.

 

You are the opposite of me, my twisted reflection in a black mirror.
You are that which I despise in myself, the black blood in my heart.
You are just an average internal demon. You are like the evil in everyone else, trying to strip away our higher cognition to reduce us to brutal animals, or kill us trying.
You are Hatred.
I let you grow, held in my negative emotions as you sprawled through my soul like the tumor you are.
But just as I let my every negative emotion bring you into this world
So shall I raze you, and drive you out.
I will not let the weight of your chains drag me down.
Your chains are cold, their icy teeth pierce my flesh, yet that is their own weakness, for they are brittle.
I will shatter them.
I will cut the rope you tie around my neck, and I will make that leap of faith.
            You will always have your strings in my heart. There will be times when you’re too much, when trying to move on is like trying to swim through molasses.
Yet, the fire that inspires me, that pushes me through life, will all but burn you alive.
I will be understanding, forgiving.
Grow rather than pity myself.
 I am stronger than you. I always will be, and refuse to accept anything other than this…

For belief that you are fragile is what will kill you in the end.
 Demon of Weakness, you want to make me into nothing?
 Well, let me tell you:
 You Are Nothing.

This poem is about: 
Me

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