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The Devil used to go by another name. Not one imposed by God loving freaks, but one chosen by himself for himself. It fit like how skin could fit over bones— how skin should fit over bones.
And by God when he heard their name speak it he swore he really was apotheotic.
Ash. He was risen from the ashes covered with bone and blood that he stole. A new skin he willingly put on. On the nose, sure, but if the edgelord shit was enough to make the town piss their pants then so be it.
Ash in the lonely white town, walking and walking past preachers and saints and the blessed angels.
Amazing grace.
Ash in the dark, lamenting corners of church swearing that if she wasn’t he when she woke up tomorrow, He didn’t exist.
Ash rocking while staring at old yearbooks and photos— Roselyn, Roselyn, Roselyn in every handwriting but his own.
How sweet the sound.
Ash who would to tell it to mountains, tell them how he’d hope he’d be buried so close to Heaven that he’d be able to climb his way up and up and up until he could slash God’s dick off.
That saved a wretch like me.
Ther in that beautiful dress and a pitiful pool of their tears. Ash’s heart leapt to his ears. He’d never heard beats so strong that weren’t from fear.
Oh, and the way they looked back! Ash knew then that the town would only ever be big enough for the two of them only. Two fakes in dresses for Sunday school: mouthing words instead of singing, blowing raspberries instead of reading Leviticus.
I once was lost, but now am found.
“Ther,” he said. “Can you call me something else?”
They looked up and nodded. Blue and nearly purple, they truly are so beautiful.
“I want to be called…Ash.”
“Ash?” Ther paused. “Okay then. How are you, Ash?”
It was perfect. He needed to breathe. New oxygen from a new life he could live. But all he could do was laugh.
“Fucking Hell, I really might just love you.”
Was blind, but now I see. ‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear and grace my fears relieved
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego— God loving heroes. Loved God so much that the only thing destructive flames could do was lick their knees gently.
Daniel stayed the night in that dark dungeon, sitting with lions and waiting and waiting until dawn broke.
When Ash believed and loved God he the same flames bit him viciously.
Faggot.
So Ash waited, and waited, and waited, but the lions attacked him and he never did see the promised pearly light rain down from the sky. Deliverance not delivered for sins not repented.
Keep singing on that stage! Amazing, amazing grace!
Do not bow. You’ll be burned either way!
How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed!
“I know what you mean,” they said. Ther’s fingers smoothed over their pretty dress a few times, then they did this thing where they used both hands to fold the hem into something like an accordion. Zig-zagged until the layers were too thick to keep between their fingers and they’d let it go to refold all over again.
“What?”
“The world feels like it’s so big that it collapses back in on itself.” Ther grabbed Ash’s hand. “Like we don’t belong here, but we won’t anywhere else either.”
They let go of his hand and went back to folding and folding and letting go and folding again. Ash thought it was so pointless.
“But I’m a princess. I stay where I rule.”
“It’s a social construct,” he said. It’s strange how he never felt much conviction for anything except for their preservation. He tore Ther’s hands away from the fabric. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I’m an Estridge.”
“You’re eleven.”
Ash tried to move a piece of their hair, but they flinched away.
“To obey is better than sacrifice.”
Ash scoffed. “You’re pulling out the Samuel bullshit?”
“Well what the fuck else do you want?” They stared at Ash for a moment, but soon hid their face in their red hair. “It’s all we’ve ever known. I don’t understand how you’re not scared.”
“I am! Of course I am!” Ash stood up. “But we both know damn well that we can’t be everything we’re meant to be if we stay in this shitty place.”
“For God’s sake—”
“Maybe you think you can do this sacrifice bullshit because you have a chance at fitting in. You’re not the chink, right? You just blend in right along with these white folks in this angelic white town, right?” Ash heaved. “You think that you can hide this? You’re colorful, Ther. You can try to bleach anything about you, but it won’t work.”
Ash took a breath. “I just don’t get why you choose to hurt yourself this way, dressed up in everything you hate.”
“It’s who I am.”
“You know it’s not.”
Ther sat quietly for a moment. Ash didn’t know what to say either. Then, they went back to fidgeting with their skirt.
“Y’know what? Fine. I’m tired of this self-sacrificial bullshit too.”
Ash got up, took a look back at the tragedy he fell in love with, and moved down the mountain.
Through many dangers, toils and snares I have already come
There’s a dressing room scene behind every production. Combing through hair and dotting on last minute makeup, before getting on that stage to preach about God and the gospel and nothing but the truth again.
Squinting in front of the mirror, he said, “Do I … look like Ash?”
They felt sorry. “R— Ash…”
Something rotten simmered. Scene change.
So sorry.
“Forget it.”
‘Tis grace has brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home
David stood before Goliath fearfully, but his faith in God gave him the courage and power to defeat him.
God’s power and God’s love.
Ash stood before the mirror and thought of how pitiful he was with his largest demons being breast tissue starting to spread off his chest.
Oh Heavenly Father,
This is how it begins.
Take the cancerous tumors away, the diseases that swell the lymph nodes, and take away his confusion. We keep him in our prayers always, but he won’t sit down for how you created him.
The mirror gets foggy. Ash’s chest feels heavy. Goliath is squeezing David with a mere two fingers and no amount of God’s love can save him.
Ash doesn’t have David’s slingshot.
This is how it ends.
Ther gasps at the blood and takes the knife away from him. They hold and whisper to him, but Ash swears that boys don’t cry.
Amen.
The Lord has promised good to me, his word my hope secures
Is eternal life worth what feels like eternal suffering? Where is Jesus to heal the sick and blind now? God, send your son upon us once more now. Must we wait for the Second Coming?
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold
We tried, we tried. We tried to hold on to promises, kissed each page of scripture to plead for blessings. We even woke up to days where we swore we could really believe and be better for tomorrow.
But the lions eat us, the Red Sea crashes in, the furnace is full of fire, and that damn snake is whispering again.
If our existence is sin, then is eternal life worth it if we will be cauterized up there just as we were down here?
Everywhere is Hell when you are condemned.
We need out.
He will shield and portion be as long as life endures
No stage. Not even backstage. Upon a mountaintop, close enough for God to witness.
“Come with me, Ther?”
“R…I’m an Estridge.”
“And I’m a Beaufort. Marry me, Ther?”
They deflected. “We’re thirteen.”
“Marry me,” he pushed
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“You don’t love me.”
Ash scoffed. “What?”
“You don’t love me. You can’t. If you do, it’s for all the wrong reasons.” Ash could start seeing the tears prick at their eyes.
“You cannot tell me how to feel.” Boys don’t cry.
“Roselyn, I have a life here.”
“You’re killing me here, Ther.”
“Leave.”
“For what? Why? Is this because of Craig?”
“Stop,” they looked so close to ruin. “I need to go.”
And then they ran off the mountain.
Yes, when this flesh and heart shall fail, and mortal life shall cease
Angelwood where even the trees were holy. Behind brick walls Ash found grace hidden from the forest. Needles in thighs, blades and bandages, maggots leaving, maggots entering, him slithering into him.
Bleach the Chinese out but breathe it back in, and suddenly he’s never seen a reflection so perfect: so blonde, so white, so boy, so holy.
He saunters across the pale streets with prideful sneers and obnoxious laughs. People shut their windows, and a monster laughs.
I shall possess, within the veil, a life of joy and peace
“Come with me.” Ten o’clock, through thrown rocks at a window and a sprint to the mountain.
“R— Ash…”
“I’m serious. I’m leaving tonight.”
“You…” they looked him over. “You look different.”
“Because I’m serious. I’m fucking serious this time, Ther. I mean, I always have been, but it’s at a breaking point. Look, you can probably still come with. I doubt my mom’d mind that much or anything—
“Ash—”
“Ronin. You can call me Ronin, Ro, whatever’s good.”
“Ro— why?”
“Why the fuck else? You said so yourself that we don’t belong here. I’m doing what we’ve always wanted, what we’ve needed.”
“What if you stayed?”
“I’d probably kill someone.”
If Ther was waiting for a laugh or indication of a joke, they didn’t get it.
Ronin looked behind himself for a second, then at the sky, as if daring God to remember this declaration. “I have to go now. I swear to God I will come back for you though. It’s not your fault.”
And so for a final time, without waiting for Ther to respond, he ran down the mountain and left.
The earth shall soon dissolve like snow, the sun forbear to shine
The next few years were probably the best. Going to places without eerie statues and places that don’t bat an eye at Ronin’s existence was a blessing.
But promises are promises and he knows they must be kept. If God doesn’t understand that, at least the Devil does.
“There,” a man pointed.
Ther?
“Young man, you seem disoriented.”
“Sorry, I just thought you said my friend’s name.”
“Might be time you went back and visited then.”
“Yes,” Ronin smiled. “That was the plan.”
“Well, like I said, Angelwood is just further down that road there.”
“Thank you.” Ronin gave the man a polite bow, grabbing the handle of the knife in his pocket to check that it’s still there.
But God, who called me here below, will be forever mine
Speaking with twenty-six letters instead of six tones, he will forever hate this place.
But today Angelwood is red, not white. Today, Prom Queen is rotten in front of him, and today he is apotheotic.
Let there be light— no.
Let there be rot.