Another angry word. Another violent slap. Another brandishing of razors. What have I done to deserve this pain? I did not hurt your Lucy or take your Joanna away. All I do is everything that you want. I would throw myself off a cliff for one kind word from you.
But worst than the anger is when you refuse my existence. When you look straight through me. I always try to catch your eye, to allow you entry to look within. But you avoid my eyes. Are you frightened to see my soul, Demon Barber of Fleet Street? Afraid to see how I've dirtied if for you? Cleaning away the bodies, cleaning away the blood, cleaning away the lives.
She says I am the devil's wife. I wish I was. I do everything for you, my devil. But all I get in return is hell. Maybe that's all you have left to give. But I will take the hell because at least you are in it. My own personal devil.