Dancing with Dante

The last playlist I made was a journey through the hole I dig for myself to be buried in

The dance I do with the devil in my head

And I finished

Heaving and sweating

My bones aching from persistently toiling at my craft

My fingertips raw and red

Tap tap tapping the surface of what it’s like to play his game

To witness his trickery

You’d have to be there, really

But a collection of distraught chords and haunting melodies is all I have to give

The croak of a vocalist

Distraught with what she believes is her fate

To stand at a mic and belt out her own worst nightmares

Capturing and locking her personal demons in the recordings of them

Ignoring the shadows that lurk in the corners of her padded room

Waiting with baited breath for her to falter

For her soul to give out

For her to make a misstep

Once

Twice

Enough times for her to stop trying to reach people like me

I sit at my work station with my hands clasped above my head

Horrified at the dreams I’ve made true

The voices I’ve given a place to reside

It’s wrong.

But it’s his call now

Soon enough our battle will have an audience

My act a standing ovation.