Beelzebub, His Bride and the Bastard

i entered the world

accidentally,

changing the life

of a fifteen year old.

As i changed her,

she changed me.

Our first years were

alone.

i was the cross she carried

upon her back.

Temptation came

masquerading,

disguised

in human

jeans.

Beelzebub impregnated

the bride,

two

became four,

we were alone

no more.

Beelzebub proposes.

She accepts

the world he offers.

A pitchfork wedding

in hell

she receives.

Beelzebub was a generous

husband to the bride

and a stepfather to me.

He lavished us

with unwanted gifts.

He gave her the gift

of creativity:

she invented ways to cover up

black eyes and tell incredible

lies.

i thought she was forgetful

and forgot to complete

her face paintings.

Beelzebub gave me

a new name

and the back of his

hand.

Grandfather, my uncle,

and the school kids

called me

The Bastard.

i can still

hear those voices

whispering

to remind me

who i am.

Those voices

became an appendage to my body,

a third leg, useless.

i was grateful to the bride

only once.

She slipped a little pill

into Beelzebub’s ice tea

the night before.

In the morning

before the rooster’s crow

she woke me from my

sleeping nightmare.

“Pack your clothes.

We are moving out

of Sheol before the Morning Star

awakens,” she whispered.

As we drove away

i knew i was free

from the chains of Beelzebub.

But she was in bondage

to his lies and manipulations.

She looked back

through the rear view mirror.

i noticed deep in her eyes

Hades’ flames

stained her heart

and Beelzebub

captured her soul.

She was chained

to her master.

i wrote this years ago, but since my mother died three years ago this week i thought it apropos because it is partly about her. Rest in peace.

ocean.

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2 thoughts on “Beelzebub, His Bride and the Bastard

  1. This is so well written, but so sad. That’s not who you are, Ocean. I hope you know that. Love you.

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