The devil is always jealous. The devil wonders why me and not it. The devil hates that I am better, but doesn't the devil realize that it will never be any better at the rate it's going? I try not to talk to the devil, in its high heels and short skirts, flashing hideous smiles it thinks are gorgeous at people. I am not afraid, but I am filled with distaste and I wonder if the devil can tell.