She speaks in similes.
Using her devil tongue.
The way she utters
A complexity of evil words
Constructed to fit perfectly
Into the shape of a heart that beats directly into her palm.
She speaks in similes
The way they need to filter every word she ever said
To make sure that when they speak
Their argument justifies her statement.
The way they need to bite their tongue
Because a chick like can’t be quiet.
It seems as the devil spit her out,
Right out of the hell fire.
The burning flames that constructed the “her.”
She is intrigued by their lives.
Their pain and suffering
Is like a comic strip
Being read through her eyes.
The way the girls scream and holler
Is like music being played through her ears.
Their cries are like a waterfall cascading through the rain forest of pain.
See, she enjoys watching them suffer
Her hot red gleaming eyes
Sink inside their souls
As she watches their suffrage from deep within.
And every time they get a little courage to say, “I DON’T LIKE…..”
She stops them
right over their tracks
And runs them over
With the train that runs straight through hell.
And every time they see a little peek of happiness,
She smacks them back into reality.
Because for her
Their can only be one shape of happiness.
And she is the only cubic shape
All six sides of pain
Sculpted out of everyone’s pitiful lives construct her shape of happiness.
It’s funny to her.
She thinks is beautiful
The way she juggles peoples life in one hand and their feelings in another.
The talent of screwing every ones life over to reach the pursuit of happiness.
She thinks it’s beautiful.
To have people fall right under her knees.
Begging and pleading,
“oh please don’t hurt me.”
She sees the pain through their tone.
But that statement becomes vain.
It sounds to her
Like a symphony being played by the devil himself.
She shall be crowned the “Princess of Hell.”