Storys > Gedichte > Nachdenkliches > My demons and myself

My demons and myself

10.3.2019 16:51
12 Ab 12 Jahren
In Arbeit

I feel lonely when I am accompanied
And I feel accompanied whilst I'm alone.
I feel lost at home and feel the need
Being trapped out there is my new throne
I'm queen without a diadem or kingdom,
I wish someone would dance in my ballroom at least,
I am formally ruled by my own wounded wisdom.
Inside me.        There's a beast.

People say they are alone.

And like it.

I say, they have never been alone.

Never been split.

Being the only one in the room

Doesn't make you alone,

Doesn't make you doomed.

I'm talking about your inner soul.

Being alone does not give you chills.

Being alone


Home is where the heart is

Somewhere where I will be missed.

A place you can speak free

Without thinking; where you can simply be.


I'm still looking for this thing called home

I don't really believe it to exist

Though people may be ready to assist

Right now it seems I'm on my own.


When I was younger and all safe,

There was a life above the waves.

Kiss, whiz, hiss.

Home is where the heart is.

I'm always stuck in myself
And I'm always stuck with them.
Is there any possibilty for me to be,
Just myself, just free.
With the demons inside
And outside
I sometimes wonder about my mind.

Being happy is easy if that's what you are,

It's something you long if it seems so far.

A truly unreachable state,

If all that you can feel is hate.

Easy to put on a smile,

Harder to keep it for a while.

When you're cold, when your inside gets eaten,

While your outside does not remain unbeaten,

You start getting desperate, it soon will burst out,

One day soon I'll shout it out loud.


Break, broke, broken.
Mind, Heart, Soul.
Doesn't need to be spoken.
Just needs to be felt.
But I can't breath.
And you need air
To feel.


I have a collar full of me's,
I know one I want to be.
But are people gonna like it?
Will it fit?
In our world?
I keep pretending being someone else.
'Cause I'm afraid, I keep reality furled.
In a box.


You should go on

When you don't want to go on.


But you can't move,

Your binded with a rope.

It carves your skin,

Burns marks.

And yet you stay.

Because you cannot

go away

It will be fine,
But all the hope is gone,
You will never be mine,
I am all alone.

To keep saying it'll be better,
Will never ever improve anything,
I open up your letter,
From far away I can hear you sing.

You sing goodbye,
I don't dare to hope
There will always be a rope,
I never looked you
In the eye.

I always fear


rather that I'm afraid

in the moment

I live.


They are staring out of my eyes,

To cut their ways,

They are using their own kifes

Ready for the rise.

I can feel them,

Hear them come.

But they are ghosts

Visible only

For me.

There is a burning fire,

I'm afraid to get too close.

It is my greates desire

To get away, go the path I chose.


Then I realise, there is no way out.

It's not bruning in front of me,

I try to shout

As I notice – it's only fire I can see.


Because it surrounds my soul

And it always will

And I have no water, you are my true foe.

It is blood I'll try to spill.

Blood to quench.

But I can't, it's got too much strength.

Feeling the beating of my heart

makes me know I'm still alive.

But I wish

I was as alive

as I used to be.

I don't know no more

whether I am a sad person

trying to be happy

Or a happy person

trying to see


But I feel sorrow towards my


I'm sorry.

Tears flood away pain

but they don't change

what I feel inside my brain

they feel so strange

in my eyes.

Those cries.

When the blood tears
It keeps building boundaries of fears
I look to my left while there's a fight
On the other side there is a Might.
But it takes too long for a might to be true,
Meanwhile Never is in front of the queue.
Is a heart still alive when it pounds?
Is a man still alive with his feet on the grounds?
Never and always are said quickly
But a definite yes, that makes life pretty.

A sailor sailing an empty sea,
The sails in the howling night of storm,
Leaving coast and life and its form,
A man in the air to be free.

The wooden boat,on the way, it sails
A man on board with no one but him
He could leave if he could swim
Sailing alone is something the crew fails.

Company is what he would need
Someone else to whisper things,
Someone else with him but Wind,
But he rejects, he keeps sailing, deep, deep,
Into Hell of waving.


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Diese Story wird neben Nachdenkliches auch im Genre Trauriges gelistet.

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