Anxious Poets Society
Wrap it up, tie it in a bow, and call it poetry!
My demons are mostly made of desire and curiosity. The curiosity of things I've been against my whole life, Things I should be against by principal and experience, As well as the desire for the things I've tried, The things I knew I should stay away from.
Desire is the worst of the demons, because oft times, it’s wrapped in lies. Desire makes you want what you know you shouldn't, Things you know would upset others,
things that would bring your life Crashing down around your ears, Things that hurt yourself and all around you. So you lie about it. To them and to yourself.
And then a time comes where you push Yourself away from desire, And you feel clean again.
But the desire is still there. Gnawing, Clawing, gently, prodding you to return into it's cold embrace. Whispering sweet nothings in your ears, deluding your mind to think like it. "This would be the perfect time to indulge yourself," it says.
You can choose to fight, but the fight is hard, and harder it grows, And then it becomes easy. And then harder again. It's like an ocean; A calm and a storm, Always changing when you want it to the least.
You could relinquish yourself to desire. Give in to the pleasantries; Feel lighter and brighter and freer than you think You ever have before, And you know now that you never want to escape. You want to embrace your desire, like a lover, forever, Regardless of consequence. Keep your secrets in the dark.
But indulging in desire is not always pleasant. You give in, only to be wracked with guilt Which gnaws and claws and screams at you, endlessly, And the only way to keep it silent is to indulge some more. But the moment passes and guilt returns, a vicious cycle. Indulge and cry. Indulge and cry. You want to stop, but you cannot. Something is holding you back, keeping you here.
You feel like shit for indulging your desire, but you do it anyway. You trick yourself into believing that you never want to leave Because you know that it's the only escape you really have.
Nick Worthington hails from the sweltering heat of Phoenix, Arizona. With a predilection for punk music and horror films and a dream to own his own bar, he's a young aspiring writer who is just trying to find his own peace of mind.