I hope there is a God,
Because I need something to hate,
For giving me the capacity to love,
And for recognizing
The feelings you cannot reciprocate.
I hope the Devil exists,
Because then surely there is hell,
For if there is no purpose to my pain,
Then it follows,
There is no end to end well.
So I lie awake every night,
Cursing and praying for divine design,
For without it, I am simply ambling about,
Cutting and being cut,
Like some lonely, godless porcupine.
Discarded Recollections 