Brick

I have an inner demon that speaks to me without permission.

It feeds on my unstableness; my existence.

I can beat it down and attack on a moments notice or when my head feels heavy.

Too heavy are the old bricks, too heavy to carry as it leaks into a crumbling cave.

This thing will argue me whispering in a voice that I don't want to hear.  I refuse to listen.

Listening to myself and what I think is an actuality, and what I possess is a silent beast.