I know she is there,
In the dormant depths of my heart,
Where the passion eats
At the washing ardor.

Deep in there,
It’d feel
The tender touch
Of a crooked hand.

The hand of emaciated dole.

You starve me
To bone:
The ribcage i hide
In and out
With vehement denial of myself.

Touching me
With your contaminating meat:
I have become at odds with my flesh.

The ***
You have deemed so essential
And utterly irreplaceable /
The love
You have deemed so futile
And utterly unavailable.

Crying when naked,
So exposed and concealed;
No part of me seems right.

Corrupting that humanity
Since i first felt filth on my soft skin,
Your foul breath onto mine
Kindles eternal sin.

Puberty like ill
Drives life into death,
Raging angst to asymptotic love.

Renews itself as ****** tissues,
Torture manifested in lust for youth.

Limbs stretched so thin
To the pit to the crucifix;
Uncontrollable growth and decay,
I open my legs
For the birth of the pale horse.

Unveil my illness
To dogmatic hatred,
My existence lies as falsehood.

Abiding that passion
In perfervid *******,
I die as and in sin of man.

Martyred for those jaundiced eyes—
Desire births and kills everything.

Buried into that burning chest,
My body caves into torrid pits.

Now all man leave—profane.

Now angels and demons merge in cupidity.

Mow pining for pity in prostitution—
I have absorbed you,
God
And His divine displeasure for my desire.