(Part 1)
The devil visited again today,
he made me ill. Anger flew
from my tongue, as he provoked
me in a sweet whisper. The green
in my eyes darkened like a forest
at sunset. He stroked my hair,
and I slowly cried. I tossed
the bile that he gagged me with.
I begged him to stop, stop tempting
me with rage. My apologies went unheard,
ignored from my love. The devil is that thin
line that I would hate to cross. Someone
save me, from myself.
Deidre Grotbo
