Satan's Games Poem by D. M. L. Catseye

If you can’t figure out how to start the poem
then start it in the worst way possible
the way you would hate to read
maybe that’s why no one ever reads your poems
because they hate them.

Welcome back, I say in disgust
to the voice inside my head.
I’ve missed you, it spits,
and I hissed in reply, but truly,
the bitter is sweet.

Are you scratching yet? it asks
If I could look away in shame
then I would. You know,
I thought I’d never go back,
yet here I am.

What a common occurrence
for me, these days, to pick up
my old toys. To try and
fix what I once went and broke
out of anger and naivety.

I’d like to think that I’m different,
but I’ll always be the same.
Just a child the Devil runs amok in,
growing older, day by day.