Understanding the Underestimated


I won't let the

demon in me beat

you to the ground

but when you let me

show my wings–the

white ones I mean–

I will not hold back

the energy, the magnitude,

or the will that those

wings wish to–fly.

"Fly higher"

I'll say, bring it

to the top.

Because the day

you learn a lesson, I'll

finally be free.

The demon shows

me where you wish

to kill but he

doesn't have a care

in the world to

keep you sane.

He releases his

secrets to show you pain.





The wings are black

now, turning to ash.

You wish to brawl

but we may


for the demons schemes because

white is not his


Loud, soft, he doesn't

choose. He let's you

run for nothing gives

him joy.

surreal poetry
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Nonnah Fain

My muse is mental health. I get a high off of writing. I write about everything, we are all walking stories.

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