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Feb 2012
I
Icy fingers wrap around
my legs and arms.  They
sink their daggerlike nails
into my skin, and force
me to go to places
that I shouldn't be

Thick polluted smoke
enters my lungs, and
fills them with the
darkest tar.  I cough
and spew out words
that I shouldn't say

Slimy tendrils slither
into my ears and wrap
around my brain.  They
snake into the crevices
of the gray matter, and
force disturbing thoughts
to the surface of my mind

It's the Devil, my dear
who spits out poisonous
barbs that make you cry,
Not me.

It's the Devil, my love
who stares at you with
those cold red eyes,
Not me.

It's the Devil, mon cherie
who whispers sweet nothings
that always turn to cold lies,
Not me.

Don't you know I love you, babe?


II**

Please forgive my insincerities
It's not me at all, you see
There's a devil controlling the things that I do
and wouldn't you know it, he's not fond of you

He made me take a gander of the lass with the cans
It was all him when I forgot our dinner plans
Don't blame me when I stumbled in drunk
He likes tequila, who would've thunk?

When our ******* session was somewhat abrupt?
He was the reason I was forced to erupt
When foreplay became no play, who else can I blame?
He's bad at back rubs, and we'll toss just the same

He's crass and uncaring and remarkably rude
He's insensitive, boorish and  unimaginably lewd
He's not me, my dear, of that much I'm sure
I'm wonderful, loving, tactful, and pure

So the next time you're thinking of starting a row
for something I've done, or something I've blown
Take a deep breath and look into my eyes
and maybe catch a glimpse of the devil inside
This is my attempt at taking a concept and writing it in two different styles.  One being serious/dark/sad, the other being humerous, upbeat, and sarcastic.
JA Doetsch
Written by
JA Doetsch  St. Louis, MO
(St. Louis, MO)   
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