They

They

My demons and I are growing closer and closer. 

When they first came, I could only hear their voices. Not clearly, but just enough to be aware of their presence. In the dark, my demons hold me tightly, like a straitjacket, all while they sing their twisted lullabies. They stroke my hair with their gnarled fingers, like a gentle lover. Telling me to let go. Let go of the ideal of true love. It seems I've outgrown it or it's outgrown me. Like a child's security blanket that once enveloped me like a cocoon. Now tattered, threadbare and can barely reach my feet.

Their points so convincing, the evidence so overwhelming. How could I not surrender? Giving my all, believing in love. A fairy-tale only told to females to give them something to distract them from the essence of power. I'm waving the white flag. I can't take anymore of the screaming in my head that lives in the silence. It sends me curled in the fetal position clawing at my ears. They win!