Sometimes I feel like a guest in my own body. A case of flesh and bone I no longer control. A butterfly unable to escape the cocoon.
“Will you shut up in there?” My voice says as my hands rap gently on my skull. “I can only deal with your whiny poetics for so long. Besides, butterflies emerge from a chrysalis. Moths build cocoons. Come on this is second grade shit.”
“Would you go easy on the eyeshadow?” I bite back as my hands paint more powder onto my lids. “You’re making me look like a prostitute.”
“Listen, Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes, will you lighten up?” My eyes rolled at me in the mirror. “This is actually very tastefully done. I’m a succubus not some cheaper whore, doll face.”
“Succubus…cheap-uh isn’t that the same thing?”
“Shut. Up. Or I will crush that tiny little bug of a soul completely.” I angrily waved the make up brush at my reflection for emphasis. “Are we clear?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” I challenged courage wavering.
“Now why do you always assume that means I will go after John?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve threatened.”
“Look, I promised, alright?” The sex crazed demon controlling me rolled my eyes again as my tiny soul fluttered around my skull anxiously. “He would be delicious, but he’s off limits I promise. A demon always keeps their promises.”