The Monsters inside

Every day I inhale the air
No day is the other alike
Still, I end up in this place
Year after year,
Time after time,
Unavoidable, and in vain I try
To overcome the monsters inside

They tell me about the other side
How much better I'd feel in eternal sleep
Than in this miserableness
In the core of my soul
It returns to me like a drug
I cannot avoid
Just like a needle
That tears me up
And makes me feel alive

Cutting emotions with a blade
Slice them up with a knife
Blood is not the only red
That pours out from my heart
Until the last drop
There is only one thing left
That is and always will be
The love for you.

-----------------------------

There's only one thing that can make me feel better in moments when I write pieces like this; and that is to write it off my chest. I am aware that this text is one of the darkest poems I've written in a long long time. Like the poem states, it's somehow inevitable, they always return to me. For better or worse, in sickness and health.

Maybe I should try to write a bit after each poem with some comments, but I want to leave the poems up to the reader to interpret for themselves.

/Kimmi