i will wear your crown, too
they say that the loveliest angels,
those light airy forces with rosy cheeks,
quick to love
and give
and give
and give
they say that they become the cruelest demons.
and you, my darling,
were so kind, so beautiful,
before they dragged you to hell-
your fall from the clouds was no accident,
you were destined for the damned.
because you never noticed the feathers leaving your wings,
fluttering away with the breeze to rot in a pasture, somewhere,
when you first came down to Earth.
you searched for someplace holy, like they told you to,
a place of spirit, of compassion,
but the only cathedrals you could find
were built of spite and splintered bone
and of course they weren’t beautiful,
and you realized that nothing holy ever is.
and you shivered, for you were cold, so cold.
and the lean form coming out of the shadows,
a beautiful boy with dark eyes and pale skin
was the most terrifying thing you’d ever seen,
and you gasped, but no sound came out,
and you fled back to the light,
which no longer seemed the haven
you’d always known it to be.
and you were freezing, peachy skin scabbing and turning blue from frost.
but you returned to earth
not out of choice, but assigned,
for you were one of the Lord’s sheep, existing to do His will
so with the body of a human,
and the innocence of a baby,
you ventured out to do good, try again
but still humanity swallowed you whole.
with a gaping mouth of poverty and lies
and sharp teeth of greed
and destruction ravaging the world
with you its prisoner.
later, somebody would ask;
how did you survive?
how did you brave the war, the terror, the violence?
how much did they have you bleed;
how long did you suffer;
how many times did they violate you;
how dark did they tint your nightmares?
you wanted to answer:
until i had their blood glistening on my teeth,
until my suffering paled in comparison to theirs,
until they were the ones pinned down by my fists,
until i learned to love the sound of screams.
you wanted to answer:
i didn’t.
i didn’t survive.
because to defeat monsters, you became the greater monster.
and when you came back,
you were repulsed by the place that you had, for so many years, worshipped.
the gilded columns, peeling, revealed twisted, burnt corpses, holding up lies
and the ambrosia you had always relished tasted like sawdust,
and you were always cold, so cold, frostbitten fingers curling in upon themselves to find some semblance of warmth.
and the next time you saw that pale figure melting into the shadows,
you didn’t think a moment before following him,
running as fast as your legs, numb from cold, would go,
you followed him, that beautiful boy with a shock of white hair,
down
and down
and down
and for the first time in who knows how long, you felt warm.
the warmth spread through you the further you followed him,
so you ran faster, sprinting through the shadows.
the brimstone made your eyes water,
but the boy, black eyes flickering, held out a hand.
you looked around, and the world was fire. you were finally, finally warm.
you looked back to the boy.
what is this? you asked, even though you already knew the answer.
what could be yours, if you like.
he escorted you to a throne.
and you knew what he was, you knew what that boy was with death in his soul and ice in his eyes.
you went with him anyway.
and now you love him, don’t you,
you love him despite all the burdens of Atlas on his shoulders
and he loves you despite the death on your lips, the blood still drying on your face,
you know how he cares for you,
and ever since that first meeting in the graveyard he knew
that you would be queen of Hell, a thousand times crueler, a million times more vindictive,
and infinitely more evil than he could ever be.
nobody owed you a thing, especially not life: but you grabbed life by the collar
and demanded something of it anyway.
you came back up to the surface, lifeblood encased in flames,
and there was a brigade waiting to meet you.
what a strange thing, that the only time they cared is when you became a threat, you thought.
until then, you were expendable, you thought.
and your rage rose around you, flickering, and all the angels could see was dust
and your wings, blackened to ash and bone from the inferno,
beat in rhythm with what was left of your heart.
you were not to be underestimated
for you could topple their feeble lives, turn their beliefs to rubble
and you could shatter souls, as yours had been shattered
you would call your fire to life, destroy them and everything they loved.
and as the angels weep fear, begging for forgiveness
you turn your body, pulsing with darkness,
and flash a dangerous smile up to the skies.
you tell the Authority, who has yet to come down to face you Himself:
i will wear your crown, too.