Powers Greater than I

My scars are red reminders of the past that continuously haunts me. No amount of make-up can hide the blemish of the texture that stands out from the rest of my skin. The scars bring on the salty tears which flow like rivers after a storm, filled with the indiscretions of the cruel days past.

I see demons standing beside me, on the ground below my feet, and in my head removing all thoughts and feelings. I allow the demons to take over once more. They numb the tears to blur the scars to dull the pain. My demons win this battle. Is there hope for me?

I hate the demons, but I need them to survive. I've grown dependent on them. I cannot function without them. Yes, they harm me, yes, they hate me, Yes, I hate them more, and yes, they put me through hell, but during my time on this threshold of hell, I am happy. I am free of all problems. I am numb.

I lay in my bed of filth and past trespasses, where I feel God does not look. I hate myself when I come to. I want to numb the pain again, to forget what I've done, to use and use until I am nothing, until there is only rot and decay. I hurt inside and out. I am filthy inside and out. The demons are no longer comforting me as they use to in that brief moment of bliss, they only peal at pieces of me now, what few pieces I have left.

I need to change. I don't want to die. If I let the demons kill me, then they win. I have to kill this now. I need to seek help. I need to find a way to live with the demons and not be dependent on them. I know what I must do. In my filth I fall do my knees, my head hung to my stomach with shame. My gut burning and chewing on me to do the right thing.

For the first time I hear a voice. It is warm and inviting. It is calming and reassuring. The voice sounds of hope and love. The tears no longer burn my skin but slide down the previous paths feeling like a silk band aid healing my flesh. My body shakes with fear and excitement. My demons realize they're no longer the most powerful thing in the room.

They're afraid. I hear them screech in utter terror and agony as a higher power presents itself. I look up to see my demons cowering in the corner of the filth I've been laying in for years. I attempt to stand on my feet, I stumble, but a hand reaches down and pulls on me. The hand is strong and worn. The hand shows reflections of me and my past. The hand shows me the future I am meant to have.

I am wrapped up in the arms of my Higher Power. It covers me in light and love. It gives me strength. It gives me power. My higher power gives me the courage to speak to the demons that refuse to let me go. "My God is bigger than you, and with Him, I am going to send you to the Hell you put me through."