The Devil That Stays Quiet.... There’s a devil inside me, but it isn’t fire or chaos. It’s boredom. It’s the voice that shrugs when people talk about hope. It sits in the corner of my chest counting the days, telling me nothing changes, telling me staying is the same as losing. Some days I believe it. Some days it sounds logical. Change is slow. So slow it feels fake. So slow it feels like a lie people tell to survive the waiting. But I’m still here. Not brave. Not healed. Just here and the devil hates that. It hates that I wake up anyway. That I carry the dark instead of letting it erase me. That even bored, even empty, I stay. The devil wants drama. Collapse. Finality. But all it gets is quiet endurance and days that pass one by one. Maybe light isn’t winning. Maybe it’s not even fighting. Maybe it’s just choosing not to leave when nothing feels different yet. The devil whispers, Nothing changes. But it hasn’t noticed I’m still here. And that alone means something already has.
The devil wants you to feel alive …. Good one
you do so much I'm surprised anyone could do like 5 poems a day this is beautiful
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