A sheen of oily black.

An enigma.

It makes you want to



do things.


Have you ever

met evil personified?

I cover my memories of it

with a braeburn apple.

How apropos


It wanted to push me

to come out.

It could recognize

my footsteps.

It rewarded me me

for feeding spiked food.

I relished the attention.

Everyone recognized it.

It was often alone.


When betting together,

I won once.

I lost once.

I gained nothing.



But now

years after

there is one memory

that haunts me.

-At the time-

I was unsure

and asked a friend

(who also eased me out),

who told me,

despite everything

it was a bad idea.

Now I know it could have destroyed

my career

my chances

my everything.

Apple. Now I am horrified.


Me and the evil

were going

to do it


Little notes;

all bad

all insulting

one for everyone,

pushed in lockers


It would be



For who?

Where was my



Why was my sense of conscience

gained by someone

I often thought

lacked one?


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