No really- It's the Devil

Demons, demons, demons—

That’s what they all say

When I tell them I’m not okay.

But do they even know what that means?

Silence that screams in my ears?

They think it’s just anger or stress,

They don’t see the scars I carry deep,

Not just the ones you can see.

“Get some air,” they tell me—

Like it’s that simple.

But their words make the numbness

Ten times worse.

No, they don’t get it.

I’m not fighting demons.

I’m fighting the devil himself.

The devil pulls the strings on my puppet smile.

He makes me fit in, play the role awhile.

But behind these doors

I’m lying in bed

Wondering if I should grab that razor again.

No, really—it’s the devil

Whispering lies like lullabies.

No, really—it’s the devil

Telling me no one would care if I died.

No, really—it’s the devil

Making me doubt every laugh, every friend.

He’s there when the night comes

Saying it’s easier to just end.

There’s me—fighting for life,

Thinking maybe I’m strong enough.

But one bad look from someone

One careless phrase

And I’m dangling over the edge again.

He’s there, waiting to drag me down.

The devil pulls the strings on my puppet smile.

He teaches me to nod and lie in style.

But alone I’m shaking,

My mind breaking,

Wondering if the blade will make it quiet.

No, really—it’s the devil

That makes me rehearse my goodbye.

No, really—it’s the devil

Saying don’t even bother to try.

No, really—it’s the devil

Turning my hope into rust.

Telling me no one would notice

If I turned to dust.

They don’t see the battle raging inside.

They don’t hear the screaming silence.

I’m clawing at walls in my head

Hoping someone might notice before it’s too late.

The devil pulls the strings on my puppet grin.

He knows how to make me perform and spin.

But behind it all

I’m cold and small

Wondering if tomorrow is even worth it at all.

No, really—it’s the devil.

No, really—it’s the devil.

No, really—it’s the devil I’m fighting.