demons with-in

Theres a demon in my head,
She answers to my name,
She tells me stories late at night,
She tells me all the flaws I have,
And all the things I do wrong,
These things are messing with my brain,
When I stand in front of my mirror,
She laughs at what I wear,
She picks apart at the fabrics that clothe my body,
She laughs at the way I wear my hair,
In a messy bun with loose strands of hair falling at every side,
I wonder if the people on the train,
have demons in their brains too,
the kind that make them doubt themselves,
and tell them what to do,
maybe its why they never speak,
because they have a demon screaming inside their head,
I feel like everyone hates me, but that’s alright.
because I think to myself
why hate someone else, when you can hate yourself.