Poetry relating to physical or emotional pain.
They stare with eyes ablaze,
a sea of faceless faces
the crowd’s anticipation
awash as notes slip out
to bounce across the crowded waves
Her body trembles in delight,
alight with a terrible fright,
while her soul bleeds out
painting the stage,
an effigy to their whims
And if it’s done well,
she’ll be welcomed
to bleed again to feed
their fevered hunger
✨Deferential Devil✨
I dreamt strange things
as my mind tried to cling
to places, and people
who’d left their mark
but didn’t bother to stay
✨Deferential Devil✨
The beauty and the curse
of those we lose to early death
is the perfection
left in their wake
✨Deferential Devil✨
I breathe in peace
and exhale this pain
Knowing time filters
the most insane
✨Deferential Devil✨
Pic credit: unknown, message for credit. Image discovered in a free image search.
Broken dreams
and broken things
That’s what abuse is made of
✨Deferential Devil✨
The way someone died
is never as important
as their actual loss
We ask “How?”
as if knowing will take away
some of the grief, and wonder
whether there was something,
anything we failed to do
to stop their demise
✨Deferential Devil✨
My breath halts and I stumble
over these memories I carry
so tight and heavy
My heart squeezes
my brain freezes
until the moment passes
and I know I‘ll survive
It’s just sometimes I feel
the edge of the world at my toe
and one step more
shall plunge me off the side
✨Deferential Devil✨
It’s painful to hear the doubt
to see fear surfacing
as they grasp at anything,
and hope the force fed lies aren’t real
while the stark reality of it all
floats ever higher
threatening to burst free
and rain down dirty,
inevitable truths
that monsters
aren’t always made up
of complicated and tangled lies
but are instead
made from the simplest of truths
✨Deferential Devil✨
He carried me on his shoulders
and loved me through and through
I always felt important
when I saw his eyes of blue
So when the call came
and woke the dead of night
It painted a ghastly picture
of a tired mans glassy flight
The holiday became a sad one
and pain lingered every year
sometimes fading, sometimes present
but always exceptionally clear
✨Deferential Devil✨
Even in these dark times
there’s goodness
It’s always the little things
which shine brightest in the dark
A smile, a laugh, a pets love
hold onto those moments
when everything is crashing down
they will anchor you to the light
✨Deferential Devil✨
Deferential Devil Poetry 