Inner Demons

Inner Demons

All my interactions, with all those in my vicinity
are all great fabrications, warped and contorted,
till my mind sees fit.
Programmed for self-destruction
Battling for redemption
My army consists of old ghosts and knowing skeletons
that have forgotten the enemy and have come back to haunt me!!!
I brush them away as if they were only a cobweb I had caught in the face and I remind myself that the demons of my past are only mirages of the mind and are most likely just a bottle of
guilt
lonlieness
and tears…
that has been shaken up for too hard and for too long
til
BANG!
the bottle has burst
and my indecisiveness spills all over the floor.
I am like a book with no cover
bare to all those who choose to see…
Or maybe the images I have been conjuring up
are so ludicrous
that even I am blinded by my own cherade.

Note: Another old poem