I have always been drawn to destruction; air too thin to breathe- I carry a pain eyes can't receive.
life and evil are only a letter apart, and I've come to believe this was no mistake;
the devil wears sweatpants and a rosary.
he weaves his fingers through yours tightly every time he holds you down-
and he shines- stolen halos line red wrists, they bang against the drywall- its four in the morning and he's come into the room again- he forever invites himself in
maybe this time God will hear the ringing, clinging together, the halos, the angels will flee to ****** back their innocence. brilliance.
and the motion will cease. the clouds, close.
claiming "possession" is out of the question for he did not seize my soul- I extracted it, split my skull all for a taste of the afterlife.
he loves mirrors and other pathways of reflection; the evil only seem to love themselves.
I am used to blinding confusion and bittersweet illusions, I crave the burn that follows pain.
he likes to leave a mark beyond scarring the skin, but I promise, the worst is within-
life and death are only a day apart and I've come to believe I am stuck in between, and the devil continues, blissful and free.