I called to the Devil
while the voices in my mind
told me the soul within me
possessed nothing special.
it’s black, bottomless, dirty.
if it weren’t true, why
does the darkness creep in
frequently and inhabit the corners
of me?
Even the Devil closed the door
to Hell when He saw the luggage
to my left.
“No room,” he sighed,
“you can’t come here when you hold on
too hard.”
I tried to call him again tonight,
but the phone rang and rang.
I prayed to God
while my skin crawled
and tears fell against my pillow.
“Why did you create such a dark person?”
He closed the gates to Heaven when he
got a better look at me.
The voices laughed at my screaming,
begging for God to take me.
I called a cab to the bar across town.
The only doors to open for me.
The only place where I could be free.
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