There are moments when I am in control of me.
Moments when the demons fall silent.
Air exchanges freely from atmosphere to lungs, beauty radiates from every aspect of my being and the world is love.
Oh but there are other moments.
When the demons scream so loudly my voice becomes lost, the world grows gray, cold , and the walks close in stealing the air.
Suffocating madness .
The words flow through my mind stealing life. Hers, his, theirs.
What torture is this shadowed existence, head low , heavy from the weight of words .
In these moments I must quiet.
Hate,fear, memories , words , bits if hot air playing their broken record until the blackness consumes all.
The record shatters.
Flung against the very wall it created opening for the light , the air to reenter.
Inside lays the warrior patiently waiting for her moment to strike.
She will rise above the pain, words, lies, memories , shattered expectations to claim the beauty that is her own.
No more will she lay in the shadow of another person's light.
She casts away the demons , calls to those great warriors who have walked before her, and shines.
A fire of beauty all her own , no longer broken pieces of others will .
Moments pass , but it only takes one moment to change the path.
6/2016 R.M. Brandon ©