When I mention my demons You picture creatures of horror Contorted faces of terror Alive to haunt my dreams And corrupt my mind With malicious laughter You imagine twisted voices Laced with insanity That push me into the dark With a touch as cold as a knifeβs steel blade You fear the thought of them Of me
But my demons are gentle Theyβre quiet I feel their warm breath against my ears When they whisper softly Perhaps you donβt hear them because you arenβt listening For their sharp words Are said out of love And their nails digging into my skull Are only there to keep me safe In the absence of their presence I am worse Which is why I let them stay Because my demons are real