RSVP to the evil one

Why do I fight you?
and why do you scare me?

You try to convince me I've done something horrible,
ruined something precious, destroyed something vital,
made people hate me and caused the people I respect most to not care about me.
You are the accuser- accusing me of your own sly crimes.

It's not okay to give you any power
any attention, any emotion, any serious thought.

God is stronger than you,
and I can tell you, "No."

When I fail, it's because I'm ashamed to admit
you're getting the upper hand,
but if I don't, no one can know to help me fight.

Fear of the Lord is a healthy respect, a secure defense.
Pride is a toxin, slowly ravaging souls.
You want to keep tempting me to drink that pride,
like a sedative, to calm your attacks.

You work to scare me that life will disappoint
and will hurt me every time.
Fear of being hurt is the most stupid fear there is.
Hurt can't harm like losing my soul.
And you can harm me without hurting at all,
with the opiate of your empty promises.

Why do you terrify me that people don't love me?
Screaming those lies at me, night and day.
And that I am a bad person for caring at all.
You serve me self-pity and drama as food,
when I have the bread of eternal life.
Why, you fool, do you even try?

Since all you know to talk about is I, I, I and
me, me, me--
The only way to shut you up is not to think about myself at all.
You don't know me anyway.
The only "me" you know is the
prey you want to capture
in your quagmire of eternal pain.

I will drown you in your useless tears,
Lock you in a cell to shut out futile cries,
Your impotent lies. 

Hell. That's right. Just go there,
Now.
Suffer by yourself.
I won't be joining you.

-Laura Marie Teresa Paxton
06/11/2015