It hurts to know that I can't promise you my existence. That I can't look you in the eye, and guarantee that I'll never self destruct again. It hurts to know that you have to worry about this.
If I were me all the time, you'd have nothing to worry about, because when I am me I know that the storm will pass and the rainbow will appear. It's the demon, the dark ghost haunting my lungs, suffocating me from the inside out tearing at my throat letting go only when my head is in the toilet.
She always comes back after, catching me from behind, yanking my arms and pulling me back into hell. She starts to whisper. Quietly at first. Hinting towards my razor blade. I lock myself in the safety of my room but demons can pass through closed doors. I cling to my bed but the force is too much. I start to hear screams. And next thing I know I find myself paralyzed in the shower, red stained water flowing down the drain.
I hide. You can't see blood stains on my dark purple blanket so I curl up inside. I worry, because the next time you see me, you'll see more darkness than I wish. You'll see the scars the demon has left.
It hurts me. It hurts to see your face when you see my thighs, the sadness in your eyes when you look up and ask me when it happened. It hurts to feel the lump in your heart as you hold me so closely acting strong just for me.
Some tv show is being played on my computer in the hopes that my speakers are louder than her voice. Her voice is meaner today. She's yelling at me from behind the walls and no one else can hear her but I swear that she's their please believe me. I start to get angry and decide that today's the day, the day that the demon lives no more. I'm not myself anymore. I'm a murderer. My only goal is make the demon suffer the same way she made me suffer. I drown her in acetaminophen.
I wake up. I'm myself again and realize that the demon is within me and that I've poisoned myself. I lay in a different bed with needles in my arms. I watch as people come in and out. I get asked questions and I try to explain that I didn't want to hurt myself I wanted to hurt the demon, but they don't understand. They don't believe in what they can't see or hear. I succumb the thoughts of the demon and fall asleep.
I wake up in another new bed in a locked ward. I'm me again and I'm relieved. I'm safe here. The demon can't catch me. Several days pass and she doesn't come to get me so they let me go home.
It hurts. It hurts to see the fear in your eyes when I head back to my bed, the bed where she first attacked. It hurts that I'd be lying if I said I had control over her. It hurts that I can't promise you my existence.