DIVINE COMEDY

seraph

seraph
she likes how when she talks about God, she feels glory.
because, seraph, on the outside talks as sweet as honey— but on the inside she's as bitter as dark chocolate. she writes words down in a lucid dream and she understands that angels do exist. her pretty, suffocating words that do not match her putrid, dirty thoughts.
and she wants to be better— she doesn't want to contaminate her lovers with pitch black tar. but when she loves, she is afraid. she is afraid of the light that comes with purity, afraid of wanting to touch God, afraid of hurt and real darkness.
within the tar, within Hell and her own rabbithole of pity— she is protected.
her own demons scared away by the empty soul inside. not even the devil would touch such a tainted heart.
seraph screams to herself at night "you are a holy being. you do belong at God's throne. you are divine, you are glorious."
but all that truly will ever answer is her own contradiction, "you will never be holy nor divine. your sins are far too great. your poison touch spreads chaos to all those you care for. God's throne would smite you if it could."
and with this response, seraph smiles. to be completely pure would be her greatest sin. to not have flaws, to not have this juxtaposition that terrifies even Heaven— this is why she remains human and continues to hate God— the being so holy that His disillusionment of how perfection is achieved makes him almost as sinful as the humans he abandoned.
the divine always abandons the flawed. but to seraph, she would rather bring her own complex nuances and destroy the stars herself than live in the light— afraid of what comes next, alone in her own salvation.