Satan’s Loneliness

Woke to a map of Mexico on my desk
Newton’s world on my chest…

I am a satan to myself,
The immortal adversary
Irrational, passionate –
My most potent emotions my lowest, the finer qualities still wanting…
Would she be lucky?
My exes hate me
But now I want to know,
Genuinely want to know
What about what I was or what I wasn’t was that bad,
What made my qualities irredeemable,
What made me dead, ?lo que me mató?

I’m out here trying to birth a gentleman from wild west genetics
The pestilent past, full of fuckery, unspiritual things
And now these chips on my shoulder, these pieces of me,
How will they be turned to advantage,
How will the way out be written, seen
And will I have to die to myself too?

Are these past lovers just that classy and me that trashy…
Me not worth knowing
It’s a goddamn crime;
I wanted to be free so I pretended I didn’t have a shadow, and in doing so,
Gave myself one

So I have to figure out how to remember I’ve been forgotten,
So I don’t get lost;
For what is unconscious posesses us, and the light doth sanitize
And what writer was ever a simple lover but a bad one
Maybe I’m supposed to be as polyamourous as my gods
But I am not meant to be forgotten, killed off in your finale, cast down from your heaven;
I baphomet, serpent of the garden,
Know the loneliness of the exile that is hell

One thought on “Satan’s Loneliness

  1. […] Satan is lonely. He’s like Scary Terry on Rick and Morty, a monster we invented. Not even us – the church – but one only needs to see the lasting impact of Milton’s Paradise Lost or Dante’s Divine Comedy, to understand the timelessness of the devil and hell metaphors. And I generally think the mushroom strategy of leaving the darkness in the unconscious, feeding it shit, letting darkness live in darkness, is a pisspoor strategy for a whole life, for a complete, self-aware being. […]


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