A part of me hopes that,
when I go meet him,
the devil will also be a too-much boy.

When he kisses me,
sickly sweet,
too hot, too much spiced honey tongue,
he’ll bite my lip on the first pass
and I’ll bite back.

Sun and moon, day and night,
Light and dark, good and evil.
They say God created everything
for a reason,
so what of the Devil?

I've heard stories,
of witches and werewolves.
But the Devil,
they say he walks among us,
living in the shadows,
and speaking in whispers.

They say God created everything
for a reason,
that He made man in His image,
so why did He put the Devil in me?

Four centuries of cursed existence, the Devil awaits to burn itself to death and be reborn from its ashes.

A hundred-fold of memories and relentless lifetimes,
Nothing is too beautiful in immortality unless one takes a break of Death and resurrect itself.

Decades of power, punishment, and misery,
The Devil soars above humanity, luring them into vices
His own self-consciousness could feed the approach of Death,
while the Devil himself starves for something he is not.

The Devil wove a nest of memories and resined it before winter,
He was life on earth, for all the demons escaped hell for it
The Devil was then the predecessor whom a woman loved,
Yet he burned himself and the memories to ashes, in exchange to recreate himself.

IA

With months of sailing on a sea of deceit, the Temptress accompanied a Pirate down to an abyss of the dark.

A Temptress who became the temptress and lured itself to heal the wounded eye of a Pirate,
who lost its compass and itself because of love.

"We're sailing for gold and more gold, until we run out of memory chests to place them to," said the Pirate
Falling to its words and deceitful half-patched eye, "All pleasures last so long as we venture what is ahead of us and not look back."
The seagulls squawked, "Abandon the heartless pirate,
Its own heart has long been stolen and never retrieved,

Gold and more gold are to cover up the paths that does only lead
To the Pirate's unrequited love quest, a lasting and soothing resort,
It seeks to feel belong and loved, even made a vow to change henceforth,
It's an endless cruise, down to the abyss of dark
Adrift with a Pirate who had nothing to lose, and a Temptress in pain who may have wished to disembark."

IA

Befriend a devil, it would be the unlikely yet best cupcake in your pantry of memories.

Cupcakes are made from scratch, anything that comes in convenient
A devil may be, but they are made from power, vices, and flaws,
and they come in convenient too when you let your demons offer it with a cup of coffee.

A pantry of memories would be boring if you prefer it in monochrome,
Angels with pretentious halos, or Humans with humanity
but then they all left anyway, like how icings are scrumptious
but the cake batter lack one essential ingredient or two.

The devil's cupcake icing would be in dark hues, bittersweet but real
It would have probably lived itself in multiple attempts at life,
Drowning in vices, manipulating people, scarred of flaws, but then again real
Befriend and touch a devil's heart like you would judge the cupcake completely based on the cake itself..

If it is tamed, know that a devil wore power to mask its pains,
If it isn't, feel free to set aside such, along with the Heartless Creatures that grow horns for themselves.

IA

Everything we love slips like water.

Love is a fraud, anything that causes unpredictable distortions,
it takes no definite form nor extent, and it slips in our hands no matter how tight we hold onto it.

Like cold water against our bare hands:
it is soothing as if something we want to last the sensation of,
Like the beach waves washing over our feet:
it is euphoric and unforgettable as if we were both meant to find solace in the same places.

Like water that quenches our thirsty souls' dehydration:
it fills up the gaps in our bare beings with something better we never thought we could ever have before,
Like water as the universal solvent:
we either mix and complement each other, or dissolve the good parts left of us when we feel pain.

IA

There are two beasts that stood opposite from the other, with a line of silver powder before them.

Behind each, stood countless caressed demons,
Following and succumbing to nothing but to their Alpha alone.

The first has its own well-caged but running out of temper,
While the latter are tamed but enraged in pain from within
"Silver is a fancy thing that bounds us from chaos for the mediocre,"
An eye-catching glimmer came from the one who spoke.

"Boundary itself are constructs that only fuels chaos,
you burn and ache at silver because you think you would,
because you fear it, and so what you think...just happens."
With the last remark, the beast laid its bare skin and walked through the silver powder, "Silver is an armor, solely for those who can endure it."

IA

hes tall
hes much taller than me
and my mind is at war with itself
the male body is so very beautiful
i think it looks stunning
he looks ancient and stone
but not at all old
he looks like he is made fun of by his mother
and her mother
he has no mother
so much rage
i hate her
his eyes are so sad
i want him to laugh why can't he laugh
i want to be his mother
i want to be small in his arms
but i'm trapped
i'm broken alone
he's not true
i don't think hes true
so i take the form
and i love the form
equally to the other
and i cherish the other form
for it is forever etched into my mind
the taste of her body
the smell of her crown
he wears a much bigger crown
yet i want them both
and i want power
i want the crown

Wrath is an ugly, chaotic beast we often refuse to unleash

It wreaks havoc underneath the devilish horns,
No one could tame it, nor a muleta in the owner's hands

From the depths of ourselves, where it quietly resides in the darkness
It often feeds on the dismantled version of our emotions,
on the distortions love caused about to our hearts,
on the insecurities and bigotries of this cruel world

Wrath chooses who tames it, who soothes its chaos down
It could be the devil's love who brings him back to his senses,
or the undeniable satisfaction of having caused destruction and loss and irrevocable regrets,
We often refuse to unleash the beast, because it often does what cannot be undone.

IA