I summoned the devil
in all the coaxing dulcet tones of a lover
to make a little trade.
He appeared to reply
in something sounding suspiciously like amusement
that contrary to popular belief,
he did not buy souls.
Why, he wondered
would he bother with such trivial humanities?
so I plucked from my chest
the thing in question
that he might know
there are not so many stars in the sky
as neurons firing in my mind.
and I showed him exquisite pain
and deliriously beautiful sadness
anger so searing I shook to contain it
All the things a devil delights in
cannot be felt so deeply as by a soul
that has tasted misery again and again
and lived to wish to tell the tale.
He moaned in half-ecstasy
tones thick with desire
to name my price.
I asked only for peace at last
How cruel!
he cried, not un-admiringly
To make one long for something so desperately
and name a price they cannot pay.
For peace, he said
Can only be found through one's own demons
It comes from acceptance
of one's self entirely; not absence.
So I left,
having wrung good advice
from the devil himself.

I hope she makes you feel weightless. I hope she makes you feel warm. I hope she makes you smile. I hope she does everything I couldnt
I hope she doesn't make you sad. I hope she holds your hand so tight that nothing can get between you. I hope she kisses you softly
I hope her heart aches when you're not around. I hope her lungs collapse when you leave. I hope her bones shatter when you scream
I hope you remember who loved you more than life and would do anything for you. I hope that's enough to twist your insides into a knot.


  
                                B.S.