“please–
don’t make me confess my sins.”
i hadn’t ever been so close
close to heaven
feeling enough pleasure to be able to compare.

“tell me, angel.” he tenderly whispers.
oh, he wants the truth..
should i tell him what i’ve done ?
i don’t think he’d like hearing
what his darling girl does after dark.

–

ANGEL’S iNTERLUDE

FORGiVE ME, FATHER
FOR i HAVE SiNNED.
iT’S BEEN TOO LONG
SiNCE MY LAST CONFESSiON.

i DiD SOMETHiNG BAD
BUT iT FELT FAR TOO GOOD TO STOP.
THE iMMORAL SiN OF SELF PLEASURE
WE SHOULD FOREVER STRAY AWAY FROM DESiRE.

i DON’T WANNA ADMiT TO SOMETHiNG SO TWiSTED
BUT i LOVE THE SCENT OF YOUR SKiN–
HOLDiNG YOUR TATTERED TEE BETWEEN MY TEETH
TO HOLD BACK MY SCREAMS

ON MY ACTS OF DiSOBEDiENCE
DO YOU UNDERSTAND MY REASON ?
MY URGE TO GiVE iNTO THESE CARNAL CRAViNGS ?
YOU COULDN’T POSSiBLY BLAME ME.

iT WAS HOT AND i WAS NEEDY.
PENT UP FROM PUSHiNG PAST PRiVATiON
BUT WE ALL BREAK AT SOME POiNT, RIGHT ?
i FiGURED i’D MAKE iT QUiCK..

THEN i FELT THE HEAVY PULSE LiKE A HEARTBEAT
AND i KNEW i WANTED TO ENJOY iT
i’M TiGHT, DRiPPiNG WET AND SOFTLY GLAZED WiTH ESSENCE
i JUST COULDN’T WAiT PATiENTLY ENOUGH FOR YOUR PRESENCE

THERE WAS NO GOiNG BACK FROM THERE
i REALiZED i WOULD EiTHER GO TO HEAVEN
OR FEEL iT.
CLEARLY, i CHOSE THE LATTER.

AH, i PENETRATE, PUSH DEEPER AND DEEPER iNSiDE
THE NEED TO KEEP QUiET
BUT i WANTED YOU TO HEAR
TO KNOW THE SiDE OF ME THAT i DiDN’T EVEN KNOW MYSELF

MiND FALLS TO THE THOUGHT–
YOU LiCK THE SLiCK BETWEEN MY LEGS
TAKE THE MiLKY NECTAR
AND LET iT GLOSS OVER YOUR LiPS

OVERSTiMULATiON OVERLOAD
i’VE REACHED MY ******
SUCH A MESS, iT TRiCKLES DOWN MY THiGHS
AS i LET OUT A SYMPHONY OF SOFT WHiSPERED SiGHS

TASTE MYSELF ON THE TiPS OF MY FiNGERS
STiCKY AND SWEET LIKE HONEY
PRACTiCALLY POURiNG OUT
EXUDiNG THE ADDiCTiVE AROMA OF AROUSAL.

–

my thoughts intrigue me !
they lead me to imagine explicit things
i’ve never once thought about.
these all-consuming fantasies of you
that preoccupy my mind late during twilight.

“you shouldn’t speak like that, my dear.
indulging in such desires
can have dire consequences.
it’s like playing with fire,
though i know you like the way it burns.”

the night calls
and i just couldn’t help myself,
i had to tend to the appetite
and please to the calling
one way or another

the satin sheets soak up my shame
drenched in self pity
along with stigma
sultry noises escape my parted lips
suddenly sparking up the feeling again

"How?" I am asked.

Tax. Incremental siphoning.
"Service changes"

"Greedy!" I am accused.

Relax. Manufactured crash.
"Bad economy."

"Incompetent!" It is exclaimed I am.

Facts. Distort reality.
"Fake or foreign elements."

"Fascist!" It is said of me.

Craps. Gambled living.
"Sweating like a ***** in church."

"Pig!" I am called.

Animals. **** philosophy.
"Your life should be in service."

"Dictator!" It is written of me.

Preach. Misinterpret history.
"And God rested on the seventh day."

"Monster!" It is all that's left of me.

Kingly. Total war.
"On the first day, God said,"

Some universal common ancestor,
Some roots we all share.
That's how it is, right?
**** some connection
To the natural world around us,
**** the universe.
It's in the symbolism of it,
It's by the reality of it.
What can one say?

We do what we can with what we're given.

I don't know about that,
But whatever brings comfort.

Some find comfort inside caskets;
Some in the idea of the end of it,
Some on the idea of a new beginning.

Some find comfort outside in nature;
Some in the idea of being a part of it,
Some on the idea of being apart from it.

It's recognizing you are already seperate,
Yet still totally together with it.

black spores on the mildewed walls
peeling over the wood
rot that even the vultures shun
it grows in cracks and in dark places.

the disease sticks its spiny fingers
down your throat, so you can’t
scream…
silence, silence, it wants
silence.
it wants
absence,
no self left to 𝘣𝘦.

outside, it has been night for years
babes born bawling, not knowing
what stars, moon, sky, sun used to
look like, nothing but the concrete
sea.

and yet, though Purity
has her headstone with the
rest, though there are no longer
prayers
to be blessed
there is good,
there is GOD in this
God-forsaken world,
there is GOOD
there is GOD—
you.

nobody understands,
nobody understands,
the loneliness of those
who are praying for warm clothes,
who are them?
just God knows.
the terrible pain they are suffering,
only praying can help them.

I could just hang in Dreamworld forever,
Abandon my duties:
Nothing has to matter in this heaven,
Lest we poison it and bring about hell.

My fragile mind rides dreamboats through dreamlakes,
And I pray it doesn’t:
Break,
Dreams are my safe haven which keeps me well.

See, unlike the real world, we can rest here,
Lie our hearts flat in line:
Pulsing,
Like a drowning drone that drains life on high.

And we’re walking on air year after year,
And no-one seems to mind:
Together,
We stand on skies; a silent choir of sighs.

‘Xcept I feel like I’m rising against time,
As in my mood’s rising:
So quickly that,
It feels as if I’m not truly growing.

All I could ever want, now within reach,
A job I love, to keep:
New love, a fam’ly,
All my million dollar desires I reap.

But as the clock counts and calls out seven,
I’m cast away from heaven:
And away from me does all my leaven
Vanish. Oh God, what a brute-full second.

God, just let me go back for a second.

Ah, yes. Holocaust. Genocide. Yes. Pagans are familiar with that. Just not in the way that you think.

Ah, yes. Holocaust. Genocide. Yes. Abrahamics are familiar with that. Just not in the way that you think.

I've got an inquisition I've put together! We've got to exercise! Burn all these things! For surely they contain evil spirits! For why else would someone think differently from me?

No! Hogwash. Darwin? You must be mad, man! For surely you don't also contest that the Earth is the center of all of the heavens! If we're not special, why else do we exist as we exist?

Do you believe more in the imperfect or the perfect? Do you assign more value to the material or the immaterial? Is there correlation between those two? There is an obvious relation comparatively within each question. For they could be graphed on a spectrum, if one were able to conceive of that. But what is "perfect?" But what is "immaterial?" For I may find the perfections in the imperfect. For I may reach and could touch the immaterial.

No! Some council several hundred years ago settled this! No! I don't know & I don't need to know who attended. Don't need to understand that moment's political atmosphere. The motivations and intentions of those who participated. I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship!
I just need...