Poetic conversation

"I kill my feelings."
"Me too."
"How do you do it?"
"I drown them in acid, you?"
"I burn them in the devil's flames."
"That's funny."
"Why?"
"Because the devil doesn't exist."
"Yes it does, it nurtures itself in little parts of people. In the corners that nobody ever wanders into."
"So you've seen the devil?"
"I make it my job to find the devil in everyone. Only then can I understand them."
"So you've seen the devil in me?"
"Definitely, but that's part of life, we all need a devil."
"Well, what's your devil like?"
"A monster."
"A monster?"
"Oh yeah, the ugliest you have ever seen."
"I don't see a monster in you."
"Look harder."
"I don't need to, I know you're not a monster."
"Well, you don't know anything."
"Yes. Yes I do. I know that the little pieces of devil in people are human. That it's perfectly normal to be human, even the purest people are."
"Then what's not okay about me?"
"You think you're a monster."
"I am."
"Do you really think so?"
"Yeah."
"Well, then, 'look harder'."

Author's Note

This is a poem in the form of words in between two individuals. The only reason I am putting it under the title of Poetry is because there is a poetic aesthetic to it.