You don't know what's so calming about seeing dotted lines of blood appearing on your skin while you slash it with one of your favorite blades.

And if you do, I am sorry.

there's nothing romantic about
stinging, shaking legs
and a still silence
surrounding lovers that creates
screams in their heads --
where did i go wrong
i'm such an idiot
there's nothing beautiful
about blood and self-loathing,
insecurities and guilt.
there's no turning around.
there's only moving forward.
and maybe they'll both be different,
but they'll probably stay the same.
and there's nothing --
nothing --
pretty about that.

Lucifer, the one that shines,
the morning star,
God's favorite,
cast from heaven for his sins.
And by that sin fell the angels.

but do you really believe that the devil is a monster?
That he, who was an angel, is grotesque?
No, he is beautiful and tempting,
an angel dwelling on earth,
and, god, he knows how to play a person.

Lucifer just wanted to be more like God,
is that so wrong for him to desire?
Thrown from paradise for
wanting to be like his father.
How sickening.