too young to be this sad | poetry

that day

i slowly recall

the nights i danced with the devil

the days i made the worst choices

it seemed like a miracle

as i stood in front of the mirror i made

for myself

my fists gripped onto a wooden bat

my being was perfectly aflame

i despised the vices i tangled myself in

i hated how i fell for my own deceit

i hated how i refused the receipts

control was relinquished

for a split second

and i raised the bat over my shoulder

shaking like voltage

ready to take a swing at the angering glass

until an angel suddenly interfered

and sent a whisper of reassurance

and at that moment

i realised

that none of this

would solve anything

so i slowly dropped the bat

and walked away

from the demon inside the mirror

from that day on

something changed in me.