"i'm the shit"
you whisper to yourself in the dead of night.
convince yourself.
your heart's beating; a reckless, frantic rhythm
careless towards the sleeping citizens of your town.
you've received noise complaints before.
there's a cacophony inside you,
swirling cries of insecurity and reassurance, doubt and empty comfort.
your demons have trapped you in a cycle;
you call them your friends.
you call them by their names.
"you're the shit"
they whisper.
