A Killer In My Head

A Killer In My Head

There is a voice that does not rest,

it walks beside me through the day,

soft at first, almost a whisper,

then louder when I turn away.

It knows the cracks within my mind,

the places where the shadows stay,

it feeds on every doubt I hold,

and twists the words I try to say.

It tells me things I should not hear,

paints darker colours on my thoughts,

turns every light into a question,

until I forget what hope once was.

I fight it in the quiet hours,

when the world has closed its eyes,

when silence grows too heavy to hold,

and truth begins to blur with lies.

There is no face I can confront,

no body I can push aside,

it lives within the bones I carry,

a hidden storm I cannot hide.

Sometimes I wonder who will win,

the part of me that wants to live,

or the shadow that keeps on taking,

every fragile piece I give.

Still I stand against its pull,

even when my strength feels thin,

because surrender would mean becoming,

the very thing that lives within.

And though it lingers in my head,

I refuse to let it define my name,

for even in the darkest mind,

there is a spark that will not be claimed.

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