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Demons
I have demons. Not the scary ones that live under your bed. And i'm not talking about the ones that slam doors and open windows, these demons are mine. I made them, I live with them, they are here forever. Some of them I made on accident. The innocence of my youth beaten into hiding so that I could remain strong. But my fault, all my fault. Others, I made willingly, I crafted them, perfected them, sharpened them to a point so they could fly faster and bury themselves deeper into other people's hearts. but they would stay with me, always. I cannot shake them. They haunt me. Every time I see a glimpse of the life I could have had, they shut me out, they drag me down. They blindfold my eyes, and remind me that while they are the demons, I am the monster. I am the master, but I am the slave. I cannot face the light of day. So I hide, in the shadows, with my demons. They whisper in the dark. Horrible, awful things. Accusations, each one of them sharp and bloody. But I cannot deny them, are they not the truth? I am hideous. Maybe once, i was beautiful, before them. I hate them. I damn them what i have, but I have nothing. in the end, I cannot touch them. I have to trust them. I love them. They guid me. I cannot let them go. they control me. I have demons. They are everything.
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demons are powerful. Some are regrets, others are faliures or embarrasments, or memories or words. they stay with you forever.