The Devil Walking.

The Devil doesn’t wear a black suit with slicked back hair. The Devil isn’t a red monster with horns. He wears jeans and baggy sweaters. He is a butcher and surgeon.

The Devil is sleep deprived sex appeal, with “I just woke up” hair tousled to one side. It’s French Vanilla coffee breath and a cigarette hanging low from the mouth. He’s fresh cologne and a tooth brush in hand. He’s yawning to reveal his happy trail and a tattooed left arm stretched towards the sky. 

The Devil isn’t evil, but he is bad. He’s bad for you. He is the heart breaker and the rose tinter. He will end you with just one look and keep walking until he finds his true Queen.


The Devil Wears My Clothes Part 3

As the sky ever so slowly turns darker shade of purple. She still is facing the finely kept hedges that line around the small pathway which connected the schoolyard to the Cathedral. Out of the entryway walked a young man, tall and skinny but with an able looking body and an air of self importance. He was finely dressed in a pure black suit that was tailored to his body and he carried a small black bag in one hand and a strangely bound book in the other. He looked good natured and his sandy blonde hair caught the last few rays of sunlight in just the right way so it gleamed a fiery orange. He sighed and I could see his eyes catch the elderly woman for the first time, she looked absolutely terrified and as my dreamlike trance is being yanked from me, I see her face contorted into a look of pure anger and horror and her screams are merely echoes to me as I am gently thrown back into my own mind…

It takes me a moment to realize that my entire body is shaking and tears are flowing from my eyes. I erupt into wailing sobs and through tear drenched eyes I scan my surroundings and look back through the small little pathway in which had led me to where I am standing now. I remember now in such vivid details of the monstrosities that took place up ahead in my path yet to come..

© –P.M 8-02-15


The Devil Wears My Clothes Part Two

I stare off into the distance, the failing Sun casts a final ray of light over the skeletons if crumbling stone pillars. I raise my hand to block out the light and glance down to where i’m sitting for perhaps the first time.

It’s a terribly old fountain which has the scars of time surrounding its entirety. Deep cracks at it’s basin shows where the water would just pour out of it…that is if there was any water left to even attempt to fill it with. I run my hand over the lip of it and remove a thick layer of dust and ash, beneath reveals a faint shine of once polished marble. All of a sudden my ears are met by the sound of creaking wood.. The wooden frame that once held the stained glass in place now was giving way. It fell with a loud crack and the shattering of glass that still remained in place.

After the dust cleared from such an incident, I slowly stood again to continue my walk, glancing back one final time at the fountain my vision goes out again and i’m brought back again to the girl and the fountain. But this time she is no longer the young girl. She is an older woman, she wears a fraying black habit and fingers an old wooden cross. She has tears in her eyes again and is humming something slowly and rhythmically under her breath. She looks decrepit and unbalanced, kind of, well like me if I would have to guess. I stare at her as she finishes her barely audible prayer, and as she turns to walk away the sky turns a pale shade of reddish purple.

What I see next seems so.. Surreal.

© –P.M 07-19-15


The Devil Wears My Clothes Part One

As I find myself walking these long forgotten halls, my boots crunching fallen leaves that have blown in from the broken windows. I blow out my breath through my nostrils and watch the icy air turn it into a pale mist.

My mind wanders to thoughts of far off places I have never actually been to. These wanderings bother me, these burned images in my head that are not my own! It’s a plague and a fucking curse!

My eyes refocus and I continue my walk, however I stop a short ways up ahead and cross through an doorway which was probably firmly shut at one time long ago but now lays merely dust beneath my feet. All of a sudden a blinding pain erupts from each of my eyes and I see the face of a girl who is laughing…or maybe crying? I can’t tell because my vision is being blured with my own tears.

She is playing in a fountain, men with purple little hats and long black robes walk around her singing a soft melody but my ears cannot make out their words. She is crying! Ha! I knew it…but wait. I do know this one! Oh my God..what the hell..

Then everything goes black. I come back to my own mind and look for a place to sit. That one was different. Much different, I know her..I know I know her yet I have forgotten her name. Perhaps in my ancient age I have forgotten a plethora of things. I can’t shake this feeling though, I gather myself the best I can and stand. I must continue my track, it has to be done today. My final day. I walk through an over grown terrace and into a court yard. My eyes turn misty but perhaps that is just the cold? I walk around for a couple minutes, or maybe it was hours, who knows now. There’s not anyone alive to tell me differently anyway. I grow weary and sit down by an old dried up fountain….

© –P.M 7-19-15