[. . . eloquently penned by an emerging poet and dear friend of mine – Rochelle McFee. Feel her pain from the remnants of a pulled cardiac muscle and a bruised love, which landed her in the prison of hell at the right hand of Lucifer].
So what does the devil have that I don’t have?
Does he somehow have a knife that is too sharp for my grasp? A temper that is connected to unforgiveable treachery that I couldn’t possibly understand? Is he the epitome of hate or just a victim of love? What does the devil have on me?
You sit there so superficially perched condemning me for being so violently wicked. Violent because I leave no stone unturned when dishing out that which you truly deserve. But did you not notice the violence in my love that was given without care for who else was there, without concern for what the makers of this doomed world would think? Does the devil have a greater desire to avenge his being dethroned or do I? Do I have the right to make you a victim of my love?
He has led men to abandon their pregnant wives, thieves to rob an old lady of her last morsel of bread. He has created murderers! Fucking paedophiles!
BUT . . .
Is he any worse than me…? I mean really, does the devil have anything on me? I contemplate raping you, ripping from your belly that ever blooming trust, I consider it as my biggest and only sin. But oh the sins that will be connected to that one are numerous and they are putting me on a blackboard to compete fairly with Lucifer.
So let’s make the comparison or better yet let’s determine who is worse:
I lay there knowingly; I let him suck from beneath me, my innocence.
Knowingly I take part in this daily grind!
The paedophile or the willing prey: who is worse or are we but one and the same?
And what about the thieves, yes what about those monsters Lucifer has created? Are they monsters because they take that one last morsel of bread, are they monsters because they deprive you of that which you are not willing to share…?
You take from me pride, while I rip from you trust, but the difference is I do so knowingly.
I was also willing to sell my soul to feed you and maybe I did. You swear in hell’s name you are the victim, you curse, you cry . . . only, your tears are rock solid and you say to me “you belong in hell”. Well I am in hell and it is a Joint Tenancy because guess what… Lucifer has nothing on me!
There are no clear lines which separate us, no boundaries which keep me looking in…I want to be just like you. Rape even with the abundance of pussies, murder for the sake of shedding blood… I want …to be able to look deep into you…know you, your one true desire… and even with those haunted eyes…I want to say “no” to you. So what does Lucifer have on me?
He rapes…I rape
He murders…blood perfumes my air
He makes paedophiles…I encourage willing preys
He dispels fire…I willingly jump in
He says knowing that it’s not true: “go get her back she is waiting for you”
I move as though I am finally going after my dream then I pull the same knife that I used to cut off her clothes….I plunge it violently in the spot that hurts the most…then I softly utter: “ this was a terrific Mind Fuck”!