Demons

It's 4:37. I lie awake staring into nothing with my head spinning from one idea to another. Pop, pop, pop.

People, places, animals. Thoughts of dark and light, swirling emotion and a constant cold hard lump sits tight on my chest. Emptiness is a common friend, but tonight he has left me and I miss him, miss the release from the thoughts that scream. There is no directing things, I'm not even a part of the conversation, just an outsider observing without passing comment.

Things shift tone. Darker they swirl, my chest tightens and I catch myself picking up a needle. My mind quiets slightly, waiting, anticipating the blessed pain. I know it will make everything stop, but I picture all the times I have promised no more and I hesitate. That brief glimpse of something that seems so pure in the moment stalls my hand, long enough for me to gain a hold over the dark and force the demons down. I put the needle back on my cabinet, I promised I would try and I will.

I can't let you win.