Beat the Devil

Be scared of me he’d said
(not in so many words)
in truth he knew I should have been
and was
yet, would never let him see the fear.

He, who liked to light fires
but not in any hearths or hearts.

I was such a quiet one, but
(as my mum used to say)
‘It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch’
So, I stood my ground
and never let this human devil win
or beat me into the ground with
either violent threats or his
psychological warfare.

My words, always my strongest weapon
and, my saving grace
patience and faith stronger too
than his sins
Besides, I’m too bloody-minded
to have let that demon win
and, although a quiet one at heart
am daring enough to wear one
long dangling earring

why?

Just because I’m still a quiet rebel
and, I can.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

*For reasons too long and too involved to go into, this person (and family) came into, and for some time, greatly affected my/our lives. He is one of my late partner’s brothers. Even if I don’t like someone, they usually have at least one redeeming quality I can find that saves them, e.g. they love a pet, or their mother or, some such. This person is pure evil and I don’t say that lightly, but have always believed you don’t need to shout, fight, curse or swear to beat the devil at his own game and besides, I am a rebel and having been bullied myself as a kid, have never liked bullies. I would never let him beat me in his endless drug/methadone/alcohol manipulations and he despised me because of that.
Thankfully, it is all in the past now.

Shared with dVerse Poets Poetics: The Art of Rebellion

Addictions

A voice that was music to my ears.
she sang songs when she spoke all
through the day until dusk
but,
I never tired of her tunes.

Skin hung over bones whose
marrow had long since given
up the ghost
Forgotten how to live
and yet,
her story wasn’t ended.

The sight of her was staggering
yet love saw past the dying.

Blood, diseased through
past addiction
She had been broken beyond the
limits of falling
buried
(more half-dead than)
alive on streets which held
no shame for a person dying to
drown their sorrows
just for today, if not tomorrow.

But,
destiny is such a strange bed-mate
and won’t let us go until we’ve
fulfilled each task it sets.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo               *All rights reserved

Shared with Brenda W  prompt at The Sunday Whirl #51 (Do please join in, it’s a lot of fun)
This is in response to the Wordle words.  (I think) they tended to be a bit sad(ish) this week.  Marrow, Staggering, Destiny, Story, Blood, Mate, Broken, addiction, Buried, Songs, Dusk, Sorrows.

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