You fear the demons.
But you fear talking about the demons more.
You fear voicing them because then it makes them real.
You fear admitting them to others for the fear of being different. Not the good kind of different.
You fear that the others can hear them. Can hear how crazy you really are.
You try to tell someone, about how it feels. How it feels like you are drowning in your own mind and body.
How you wonder what would happen if you stepped over the yellow line.
How you wonder if they’d notice. If you would scream. If they would hear. If they would see.
How if you stop, you will fall. How you need to keep moving, forward. One day. One day further away.
Further away from the darkness. But it remains. It’s always there, sleeping somewhat peacefully.
Ready to pounce when you least expect it. Ready to take over. Take control. Take your mind from you. Take charge.
You fear it.
You fear yourself.
You fear them for not understanding.