Inner Demons

I'm running through the back streets of this broken down town.  I trip over dried up cacti, I stumble but I don't quite fall.  The moonlight dances over my shoulders.  Heaven taps me on the forehead as if to whisper "Mortality isn't forever, you're merely a piece of sand on the beaches of time, surely you did not expect otherwise."1

Something, someone is chasing me.  I pretend it's nothing more than a vicious shadow playing a cruel game with me.  Then I remember that shadows don't grunt and howl like a prisoner on death run at the end of his rope.  Looking around I see mountains with trees on the hills poking out like deadly finger nails waiting to destroy my very being.  I don't know where to run, at this point I Iong to give up.2

My legs scream for mercy burning me in ways I've never felt before and I'm terrified.  I don't know how much longer I can run but I have to run.  It's a basic instinct, survival of the fittest if you will.  Surely I cannot give in, I've never been much of a quitter, but then I'm not a fighter either.3

Symbolism dances in my mind as this monster chases me.  He runs faster and faster and if I don't then surely I will die.4

Death is not my idea of a good, clean fun.  I chose to live many years ago when it would have been easier to just give up.  Adults who come from abusive pasts sometimes have an inner being, if you will, deep inside of them that says "Hey, screw you world! I'm not finished here yet, I will give up."  I have that, I keep going even when I'd rather not.  There's been days when I've just wanted to bleed just to make sure I still feel something, anything, in fact.  I've never done it though, it's all part of my inner child screaming "DO NOT FUCKING HURT ME EVER AGAIN!!"   So, I just don't.  I let her be, I let her run my life.5

Speaking of life, I sense that this monster has caught me.  I feel it's dirty, inhuman fingers wrap around my arms.  I thrash, I yell, beg and then I cry.  Still I haven't given up though, funny how stupid I can be.  Something deep inside of me would fight the world to protect this little girl who had been beaten, raped and abused.  It's not me, it's God, I think.  He gives me reason to go on.  I don't know what the reason is though, I just know I have to go on.6

Back to my monster, he's cutting me, laughing in my ears.  Daring me to try and fight.  Well, that's kind of what I do, dumb ass, I fight.  I fight with everything deep inside of me, I kick at memories that I thought I'd long since buried.  It's funny, it's kind of like walking through a cemetery in some cheap B horror movie and you see a hand pop up from a grave.  Well, that's my spirit, every time it's buried it pops back up!  I can't even fight it anymore.7

So, I look my demon deep in his {her?} eyes and say "You know what? No, go to hell, go straight to hell!"  The demon still tries so very hard to control me.  But he, or she, doesn't win.  I do, I always do.8

So I turn off my bathroom light and walk away from my reflection, the demon.  I won this one this time.  Maybe someday the demon will win, in fact I'm sure it will.  It's just not today, don't you dare try it.  Do not dare.9