I want to let them run free. My demons. They tempt me. With freedom. And they will get me. Freedom. The one thing that I want. But. I will not be able to control them. They. Once free, cannot be bound. They are rash. Reckless. Destructive. They do not care about the after effects. The reactions. They do not care about. Relations. They do not care about. Worldly customs. They do not care about. I am indecisive. I cannot choose. What to do. Do I let them out. Or not. Out. They free me. But they are demons. To them what gives must stay. What takes must go. Conflict. That is what is happening me. I hate it. On the other. I cannot afford to hate it. I am conflicted. I am being broken. What little of me I had gathered. I is being broken. Not by power. Of strength. But by simple presence. The essence of being. That is enough to break me. I was never this weak. Maybe. But just. Maybe. What does not kill me, will only make me stronger. What should I do. That is the question.