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My Devil

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My devil does not have a face, horns or a tail
My devil is the way I feel when I’m scared to fail
My devil feeds on a broken heart
Until my soul is starved from the depravity of love

He throws away my endless care like a stone across water
Until it sinks and mistrust and hatred are all I see in the kind eyes of others
Stirring my paranoia so I feel danger in a hug

He creates a lost mind
Though I have been found so many times
He has glued one foot
Leaving me only capable of stepping back or falling forward

He is an adult taking away my magic
Kicking me into the routine of life
Striving for nothing more than normality and comfort
Blocking the bridge to reach extraordinary

He feasts on insecurities
Creates guilt when there is no fault
Makes me feel I have no home
When I’ve been blessed with a family that loves

Waters my ungratefulness until life dies and satisfaction cannot be produced
Traps my mind in a box so I can’t see the more beautiful world
When I feel it’s there
Makes me forget I’m unique

He turns “me” into a nonexistent word
And turns good nature to help others into a loss of desire for oneself
He bounds one hand to an anchor
With a choice to rise from the depths of sadness
But only with an effort avoidable
By making melancholy become the standard

My devil washed away simplicity of mind
Placed questions in each thought on what is right and wrong
Till there was no more me
Will the murder of my devil release me?
Or will the assassination of an idea confuse my purpose and path?

My devil wants results with no effort
Recognition when none is deserved
Blockades my emotion and boosts my pride until I cannot admit how I feel
Plants the idea that if my thoughts are bad my character is bad as well

My devil makes me think I have lost best friends not by time or differences
But by my faults and fail to recognize how I need them
And by being lesser than the one I am replaced by
My devil whispers to me like a lover so I believe each word

My devil can make me think he is God
So why can I not hear God when it is silent but hear the devil when blasted with noise?
My devil tells me I don’t deserve to be loved
He tells me I’m simply trash and can not be more
My best is not good enough and my perfect is less than poor.

My devil tells me that I do not want a toned body but I want her body
It tells me my face is too ugly to like
And my skin to filled with dirt from the past to ever be washed clean
It tells me my loyalty to friends is only for fake adoration for myself and never sincere.

To that I tell my devil to go to hell …





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