Minuit Confession Du Pécheur

Twisting and turning in this bed.

Legs in a vise grip.

Air levels are depleting.

Gasping for acceptance,

Gasping for love,

Gasping for truth,

Gasping for understanding.

I am a huge contradiction.

I am the thing I fear the most.

I shake my head no,

But spread my legs,

In desperate anticipation,

For the devil’s euphoric stroke and flow.

My chest heaves anxiously,

For his talented tongue to taste my skin,

I need this sin.

My nipples tighten in practiced rhapsody,

For the soulless being taking me to ecstasy.

My core soaks in abject blasphemy,

For the ignorant bliss he brings for the night.

Suffocation is here,

The man in black has [finally] re-appeared.

My affinity for the sinful,

For the debauchery,

For the unattainable,

Will be the death of me.

-N