the devil left no forwarding address
just a wake of broken promises
and a strong stench of shame
.
I stood outside the red bricked house
my face washed in hot morose
as I remembered every nightmare
.
every trial I was put through
every limit I was pushed to
the sound of my sanity snapping
.
the devil left no forwarding address
just a wake of broken promises
and laughter that I came
About the Creator
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More stories from Kayleigh Fraser ✨ and writers in Poets and other communities.
The First Hairline Cracks
The first cracks never look like cracks. They don’t arrive with drama or warning. They don’t announce themselves as danger. They hide inside the very things that feel like power — speed, clarity, momentum, capability. That’s why they’re so easy to miss. That’s why they’re so dangerous.
By Elisa Wontorcikabout 16 hours ago in Poets
Comments (5)
Ooh this is so chilling and mysterious. It gives off vibes of like a specific type of movie but I can't explain it. I really enjoyed it and loved the title too!!
The sound of my sanity snapping. I loved that line so much! This poem is like a prequel to a villain origin story. Monsters aren't born, they are made. But yes, I know that we shouldn't become a monster just because we've been treated badly. Your poem was very melancholic and poignant!
Something about this is super chilling! Like the devil is a stalker!
Very engaging 😁
Great poem! Also, I know where the devil lives if you want his address! It’s 666 Hellbrook Rd, Gumshoon, Missouri!