Everybody has demons. Demons that destroy you. Demons that haunt you every step of the way. Demons that rip you on your insides but leave a perfect exterior. You can run but you can never hide, the shadows will find you. You can fight but it will never be over, for the scar is permanent. Sometimes you think you’re above it and you’ve learnt to come to terms with it. It won’t take you much longer to realize that if you do say that, you are lying to yourself. You are lying when you say that you’re okay. You are lying when you say it doesn’t hurt anymore. Because the scar has been cast not on your body, not physically, but on You. You know you want to fight it. It doesn’t deserve your time. Stop thinking and start living. You want to. But there is a reminder right in front of you. A yellow Post It note describing everything you’ve ever wanted to escape from. Tear it. Make it go away. But it’s like a boomerang that keeps coming back. You don’t want it to take control of your life anymore. You want to be unburdened. But it’s hard. Some days you wake up thinking all is right with the world. Other days you go to bed crying, praying for some kind of balance in your life. Why does the thought make your skin crawl? You want to rip your skin apart. It is on fire. Burning. You are burning. The rage is unstoppable. The terror is gone but you are still frightened. Stop letting it control your life. You know you want it to stop. But the mind does not easily forget. And you don’t want to think about it but you go back. Such a bad place to be. You cry and pray for normalcy. For the scar to heal. For sanity. For lightness. To be untouched by the demons. You open your eyes and realize you’ve only told yourself what you want to hear.