The Devil on My Shoulder

I have so many deep thoughts that I don’t know how to put into words

I feel angry 

… but I also feel forgiving


I feel independent

… but I also feel helpless


I feel beautiful

… but I also have days where I stare at my face and search for beauty that I just can’t find


There are a million thoughts running through my head every minute and sometimes it’s all just



I love myself and I love those around me, but there are times that the dark, dirty depths of my consciousness seem to be the only words that the devil on my shoulder whispers into my ear.

I can psych myself out just listening to every word he tells me.

It’s like I can stop the little red man from saying these things, but something inside of me begs to just hear him out. I don’t stop listening and honestly, I don’t want to.

He is part of me, whispering these sheepish ideas that leave me paralyzed and imploring for him to tell me more.

Remind me of how bad I am.

Tell me about all of the guilt I can’t come to terms with on my own.

Make me feel worse right now so that the days that you are gone are the days that I can convince myself that maybe I’m as bad as you say I am.

The days come and go, and so do the doubts and ambiguity. The devil’s murmurs become my own thoughts and it’s hard for me to recognize which damnation is coming from him, or me.

Eventually the devil’s voice fades.

And I realize the only voice that I hear now

is my own.



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