Suicide Devil

it crawls through me and lives in my skin
it floats in my blood and begs me to give in
the blade is my paintbrush and the paper: my skin 
oh how much i would love for the blade to dig in
i think if i’m skinny, the pain will go
but really the pain is inside me and i can’t say no 
the thinner i get, the more whole i feel
but i did not realise this was the devils deal
i give in to the thoughts and the demons in my head 
for now i realise they’re not under my bed 
it was never my fault, the demons live inside me 
i could never ever change the way they control me
so dear devil, what’s next?
a cut to the wrist or a blow to the head
surely you know your game is no longer fun 
in time you will see the damage you’ve done 
i’ll be dead soon don’t worry, 
the deed will be done
-unKnownPerson
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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