It was never really there, the war I fought. Everything I saw was nothing but a mirage, a game I played with my own mind. I was traumatized by things that were not there. Haunted by ghosts that couldn’t even take physical form. Ghosts that could feel the passing through of my bullets, but were never affected. Meanwhile, I faced the recoil.

The world I was born into is harsh. At least, that is what I have been taught about the world. I was taught to forget about the little things in life because those things never last. Then, I was told to only focus on the little things in life because they are what make the world “beautiful,” in some aspect. I couldn’t chose anymore after the countless debates on what I should be. I left them behind, the people with perfection on their minds  and hate in their hearts. I let them work to be what the world told them to be just so that they could be distracted from my “mistakes,” long enough for me to build myself up.

One day, I willingly woke up. The reason being that I didn’t have to sleep anymore. I didn’t have to see my ghosts. Unfortunately, the only difference between night and day was that if I was awake I could fight them off. If I were asleep, I was  victim to whatever my demons had in store. Frozen without the ability to fight. Daytime gave me time to find new ways to scream without actually screaming. I could sing my heart out, write long and hard about what I couldn’t work up the courage to say aloud, or drown myself in whatever misfortunes derailed from the paths of others and made their way into my world. I often choose to drown because demons can’t swim. Water is too pure for such filth.  I had the choice to burn in the heat of demonic fire, or drown in calm waters.

Let’s just say, I’ve learnt to hold my breath.

One day, I saw everything, and everyone, for what they truly are. I saw the people that fought for all the wrong reasons. They weren’t fighting for themselves. They were fighting to find new building blocks because they let every truthful word break down their walls. Those people spent their time blocking out wise words, and trying to find love from people who could never grant them that wish. They built themselves up based on the thoughts of others. Those people still haven’t realized that if they continue to build themselves up with weak words, one strong word will be buried underneath their foundation waiting to be spoken of. Waiting to, yet again, be the reason behind your broken world. This one strong word will outdo every weak word. A thousand bricks, cannot withstand the strength of one word.

I saw myself in the mirror. I saw what I was becoming. I couldn’t believe what was staring back at me. I couldn’t believe how I looked. Or, actually, how my insides looked. I saw my heart. On the verge of exploding, and slightly darker than a normal heart. The reason behind this was that I couldn’t say no. I always told myself that there was more room for people. That I could allow more people in my world. I told myself to take away their darkness. Which I successfully did, but I now notice where that darkness went. It found a new home within my heart.

I saw my eyes. Remembering how they once looked. Beautiful, bright. Now, I thought to myself, “Is this how people see me?”, Do they see what I have only now managed to see? Do they see these dark, almost black, eyes? I think this is the affect of looking into the eyes of a demon. From fighting off these creatures. Maybe, when I looked into their eyes and saw their souls, they did the same to me.

I saw my brain. Halfway down my throat. As if it were trying to make its way into my heart. Like it was on its way to slap some sense into my ruthless heart. Trying to make me face reality. It was stuck there, keeping my words from escaping. My mind was trying to fix the pain my heart brought me, but at the same time it was not allowing me to speak the words I so desperately needed myself to say.

I can’t win.